A Voice in the Wind
by tricksie
Summary: Sakura's friendship with a rogue nin is a lifeline for both, but it cannot last. Nothing ever lasts for him. But when a blonde Akatsuki shows up with the bleeding kunoichi in his arms, will she be she strong enough to unravel the mystery of who he is? AU Naru/Saku
1. Taken

_Author's note: Full summary, including *whispers* mystery ninja's identity, on profile page_

* * *

A Voice in the Wind

For years, copying other people

I tried to know myself.

From within, I couldn't decide what to do.

Unable to see, I heard my name being called.

Then I walked outside.

—_Rumi_

* * *

**Chapter 1 - Taken**

The old trade road hurtled down the arid mountainside, unraveling like a silk ribbon knocked from a teetering merchant cart. It looped wide, careening out to the perilous edge of dusty cliffs, then snagged on the crumbling rocks and folded in on itself, over and over, until it disappeared into the blanketing green valley far below.

But the golden road continued to unwind beneath the leafy canopy. It trailed over hills, dipped into streams and swung around massive moss-covered trunks. Ancient trees arched overhead, intertwining their limbs. Their deep green shadows softened the gravelly edges of the old road.

By this time of year, dusty sandals should have tamped a well-worn path down the center. Carts should have been bobbing and swaying through it's ruts. And the forest birds should have been chattering indignantly at the relentless shuffle and clang of the interlopers.

But neither weary merchants nor rattling carts could be found in the suffocating summer heat. Even the birds seemed to be a memory. Save for a warm breeze rippling through the trees now and then, the air was heavy and soundless.

The unseasonable temperatures had driven all creatures away from the old trade road — all except _them_.

Wiping sweat from the back of her neck, Sakura tucked an errant strand of pink hair behind her ear and tried to stretch her stiff limbs around the knobby roots. She dropped her chin into her hand, elbow sinking a little in the black dirt, and drummed her fingers across her cheek. It was getting hard to keep her eyes open. She sighed deeply.

A rustle in the branches nearby caught her attention, and she pulled back a limb from their makeshift hideout to peer out into the unusually silent woods.

A single leaf drifted lazily to the ground.

She sighed again. Nothing had changed. The leafy branch ease back into place.

Sakura drowsily studied the jagged-edged leaves in front of her nose. She had memorized them all. If they stayed there much longer she was going to start naming them.

The three teens had been huddled under the bush for the better part of a week as part of their mission: simple surveillance on the abandoned road.

"A teamwork exercise," her sensei had said. "The Hokage suggested it." She was beginning to think the old man was as daft as her silver-haired instructor.

Lying there in the dirt, oppressed by the heat and silence, she was beginning to think differently about a lot of things.

Sakura pushed limp hanks of hair behind her ears again. She was _seriously_ questioning the wisdom of cutting her short.

She managed to keep the distracting strands out of her eyes, but she couldn't stop the short ends from curling up in the humidity and tickling her cheeks and neck.

She'd turn her head and a few hairs would graze her skin. Panicked, she'd swat away at what she thought was a bug, only to realize in frustration that it was the product of her new hair style.

Sakura had cut her hair before this mission, excusing the drastic change to those around her as a necessity, but telling herself it would be a mark of a turning point in her life. As she watched the long waves fall to the ground, the pale pink hair she had cultivated since childhood, Sakura envisioned a transformation that would seep into all corners of her life.

She would look more like a ninja. Snip.

She would look more like a medic. Snip.

She would be taken seriously. Snip.

And for a little while she was transformed. She _did_ feel different. She relished the way her "new" hair became unruly at the edges, floating and moving with a freedom she'd never had before. Sakura saw this change in the mirror as one she could have in her life too. Carefree yet confident, she thought, admiring her new look with a smile.

Sakura delighted in the marked difference between her and her best friend Ino's hair. So long and flowing, she used to think with a sigh as she watched Ino preen. So impractical, she would amend her thinking now. Flush with the wisdom and maturity that accompanied her new hairstyle, Sakura thought this must be how a real kunoichi felt.

Frowning at the memory, Sakura jerked suddenly to bat away a non-existant "bug." But all she managed was to lurch up into the branches over her head. She reached up to dislodge those "carefree curls" from the limbs over her head. But one hank was still mercilessly entangled.

She scooted up on her knees, dingy boots digging into her calves and smudged skirt stretching over dusty black shorts, and reached back with both hands to free the snagged hair.

'A real kunoichi,' she thought darkly tugging the lock free, 'a real kunoichi doesn't get their damn hair caught in bushes.' She brushed the dirt off her red top, but it too was hopelessly filthy from lying on the earthen floor.

A buzz sounded at her ear. She swatted hard, knowing this for sure was a real bug. But her hand went flying into her teammate's face. She stopped her hand just inches from his nose and winced. He huffed indignantly and scooted toward their other teammate, widening the gap between them by only a few inches. But his message was clear.

Sakura glared at him a moment before wriggling back down to her lookout.

But she stared out at the forest with unseeing eyes. She didn't need to be reminded…. His words still stung her, weeks later.

Sasuke had called her useless. A burden. A dead weight. Then he went so far as to request her removal from his team. She tore off a thin branch and poked the ground with it.

'His team,' she thought, gritting her teeth at his arrogant presumption. She snapped the twig in two.

Sakura had tried to hit him when he said it, but the punch never connected. He gracefully sidestepped, and she planted her fist into the hokage's wall instead. The smiling face of the Yondaime still looked handsome in his picture frame, even as it hurtled across the room. She closed her eyes and exhaled angrily at the memory, sending the leaves in front of her shivering.

So here they were, forced to work together in the tightest space possible, monitoring a desolate road in stifling heat for any sign of criminals. She'd have been happy to sweat it out under this damn bush for a week if they'd just sent her on her own. No, it was the fact they had to be punished as a team that really burned her.

She opened her eyes again to survey the road. Still nothing. Shifting her hand, she broke the remaining twig pieces in half again. They thudded one by one into the dirt.

A spate of ambushes earlier in the summer had sent several merchants to Konoha begging for assistance. Dispatching a genin team to stake out a corner of an enormous forest was at best a kind gesture. They knew there was no hope of seeing anyone in this weather. But the merchants would be happy, and troublesome Team 7 would be out of the way.

The only goal now is to keep from killing each other, she thought, picking up one of broken twigs and aiming at a gap in the leaves. She missed.

Maybe they would get lucky and some enemy nins would appear, she snorted to herself and pitched another twig. It hit a leaf and bounced back at her. Foreign nins, bandits, ruffians and rogues were usually the kind of action she hoped to avoid. But anyone would be an improvement over _him_, she thought, feeling around in the dirt for the twig.

She pinched this one between her fingers like a dart, bit her lip and squinted at the target. She was sure this one would make it.

"Sakura," a low voice punctured the silence.

She froze, green eyes wide, arm raised, elbow covered in black dirt, twig poised to fly. Slowly she lowered her arm and waited for his rebuke.

"Go collect your plants. You have fifteen minutes"

Sakura blinked in surprise, then frowned deeply at his commanding tone.

But when the she turned fully, ready to remind him that he was only their captain _not_ a kage, she found he was already scooting backwards. Face concealed by glossy black hair, he was pushing the branches back so she could exit the makeshift hideout.

His movements were as confident as his words were dismissive — he knew she would comply.

'Bastard,' she huffed petulantly to herself. She hated to obey him and give him that satisfaction. But the opening beckoned. A chance to escape her close quarters with him was just too good to pass up.

She bit back her retort, rocked onto all fours and climbed over the roots toward the opening.

Sakura edged past Sasuke and could just feel the fresh air on her face when a snide voice at her ear halted her.

"Don't screw it up."

It hit her like a physical blow, and she lowered her head for a moment. Sakura didn't need to see him to know what he meant: It was the same jab at the Hokage's office. He still dismissed her as useless.

Swallowing hard, the Sakura collected herself and moved forward again when a low root snagged her toe. She stumbled and pitched forward. Off balance and with nothing to grab onto, Sakura crashed through branch-covered entrance and landed on her stomach, half out of the hideout.

Caught up in the melee, Sasuke tumbled out sideways. But he recovered gracefully and landed in a crouch outside the hideout where he waited for her to get up.

Sakura stifled a small, angry sob and forced herself up, pushing back against the single branch that covered the entrance. She righted herself and held the thin limb back in tension for him. Sasuke rocked forward and crawled back inside the hideout, not even sparing a glance at her.

'Damn him,' she thought, watching his retreating form filling up the opening. 'Damn him for thinking everything revolves around him.'

Sakura closed her fist around the branch, crushing leaf and wood under her fingers. But a sudden thought buoyed her emotions.

Sakura's mouth curled into a wicked smile. She slowly pulled the pliant bough taut…then let it fly.

The branch whipped him soundly across his backside.

Curses streamed out, and the commotion he made wheeling around to get after her made the bush look as if it had come alive, but Sakura didn't linger to see the fruits of her labor.

Sasuke disentangled himself and lunged back out trying to catch her, but she was already gone. Distant laughter filtered down through the canopy. His normally pale cheeks were ablaze.

"She's such a useless, pain in the ass..." he growled, scanning the trees and rubbing his backside. His face crumpled into a scowl as he realized the truth of his words.

Silence settled thickly over the forest again.

With one last glare, Sasuke ripped the branch off the entrance and disappeared into the hideout.

* * *

Boyish laughter rang through the treetops.

"Damn it, shut up," the older ninja exploded at the outburst beside him. "Perfectly concealed chakra only to be given away by your foolishness."

The younger ninja sobered quickly. He knew this was important and didn't want to screw it up.

They shoved off the branch and moved fluidly through the leafy canopy, shadowing the girl.

When she stopped at a green clearing with a few flowering shrubs, they watched closely to assess her skill. The kunoichi paused, pulled a square cloth out of her waist pack and inspected one of the plants.

"Med-nin," said the younger ninja, settling his smaller form into a crouched position on the branch. "She's our target." The older ninja remained standing beside him but nodded his agreement.

The young man skimmed his fingers along the smooth bark at his feet and mentally ran through his paces: If she's a medic-nin then she'll certainly have information about her village. Plus she'll have a skill that can be leveraged against her. She can treat their wounded when they are so far afield with lofty promises of safe release in return.

He ran his hand absently over a cluster of leaves growing beside his foot, plucking off a particularly green leaf. The leathery surface was cool beneath his callused fingers.

He knew this was a standard procedure when abducting enemy nin for information — always pick the mid-level shinobi with easily recognizable skills. The lowest level ninjas never had information; highly skilled ninjas probably knew more, but they were completely unpredictable. They could unhinge your entire mission. Medics were always mid-level. She was just right.

'Plus,' he thought as he stood, replaying the moment in his mind when her downcast face brightened with the thought of intended harm on her teammate, 'she looks like fun.'

He tore the leaf in two and set off.

* * *

Sakura stopped in a natural clearing between the trees. The sun streaked down, illuminating a cluster of flowering shrubs in the center. Heart-shaped leaves…these were the ones she was looking for.

Sakura drug the back of her hand over her damp forehead and walked through the waist-high bushes, inspecting each one before settling on the best specimen.

As she leaned down to pluck white flowers away from the plant, a warm breeze danced around the kunoichi, ruffling the fringe of pink hair that hung just past her jawline. Leaves rustled somewhere in the canopy above her.

She paused at the sound and lifted her head for a quick glance around, half expecting Sasuke to appear. But the breeze rolled through and, seeing no cause for alarm, Sakura bent back to her work.

Sasuke could really unnerve her. Even after all their time together on their genin team, she still didn't feel like she belonged. She tried so hard but it was never enough.

Sakura pulled back the leathery leaves to find more white buds underneath hiding from her. Suddenly frustrated, she ripped the largest leaves away to expose the small blossoms. She swept up great handfuls and dropped them into her makeshift pouch.

After her anger extinguished and the limb stripped bare, she moved around the plant, sighing and reminding herself that it wasn't all her fault. After all, how do you work with a ninja who doesn't need a team?

His brilliance was undeniable. And he was her partner, she had that pride of place at least. But that was where it ended.

Her childhood friend, Ino, still gave her a little glare now and then about being paired with her longtime crush, but in reality the camaraderie Ino shared with her own team was more than Sakura had ever felt with any of the shinobi she graduated with, let alone the two she was assigned to protect. Ino's team looked like an oasis from her vantage point. And while she had flourished, Sakura had floundered.

She broke off another strand of blossoms, tucked her wayward locks back behind her ears again and blew out a breath. Sakura had to admit it wasn't just about the team…she was disappointed with herself as well. She knew better than to give in to Sasuke's goading. She shouldn't have tried to hit him, in the Hokage's own office no less, even though she thought it would make her feel better. Which, she discovered belatedly, it didn't.

But his snide remarks had hit their target. She'd thrown the punch that landed them on this mission. And now they all had to suffer. And it wasn't like they weren't all suffering enough from being bumped from the chunin exams.

Kakashi had broken the news matter-of-factly that they were not to enter this year. Sasuke scowled, Sai was silent, but Sakura listened. Kakashi simply said it was for the best. If they couldn't work together to survive, then they'd certainly die together. He siad they could try again next year. It hurt her pride, but Sakura saw the wisdom in it. They were as far from a team as she could imagine.

Sakura shook her head, then straightened and opened the pouch to examine her work. She had been so preoccupied she'd almost neglected the task at hand.

Gathering herbs from this particular woodland was a request by the hospital herbalist, and it earned her a much needed break from Sasuke, even though he looked down his nose at it. Her medic training was the one area where she felt capable. It was nothing special, just the basic training for those with an aptitude with it, but was catching on quicker than the rest. Even her instructor said she had a knack for it. She was beginning to think this might be her niche as a Konoha nin. A Med-Nin, she thought dreamily. Well, maybe someday…when they finally got back to Konoha.

Sakura bit her lip, made a quick judge of the weight and sifted through the petals for any wayward bugs. Shaking everything back to the middle of the little square, she caught up the corners of the fabric and gave the pouch a little twist, pinching the folds between her fingers to keep it closed.

Satisfied with her work, she silently made another resolution to herself, one more atop an admittedly ever-growing pile of resolutions…. She vowed would push on with her medic training. No matter what snide remarks Sasuke threw at her. She wouldn't let it deter. After this farce of a mission was over and they returned to Konoha, she would try harder. She may feel bad, but she won't give up.

Sakura let out a little snort under her breath. _Not give up? Some days it feels like that's the only thing I can do._

She took a final look at the plant in front of her, still resplendent with it's glossy heart-shaped leaves. But the desirable flowers were gone. Sakura frowned a little at the picture it presented. She didn't want to be like this plant, only useful in someone else's more skilled hands. Just like she didn't to be the weak link on Sasuke's team. She wanted to be a strong kunoichi in her own right.

Sakura curled a short lock behind her ear and closed her hand around the small sack. She was ready to move on, away from this self-doubt, this mission, all of it. Yearning to feel the physical movement of leaving it all behind, Sakura turned quickly on her heel—

Only to find someone directly behind her, suffocatingly close, blocking her only path out of the clearing. She didn't know how or when a body had materialized there, but the shock of it threw her into a true panic.

She knew she was face to face with another ninja.

A shinobi dressed in drab greens and browns peered at her through scratched goggles. Thin strips of cloth covered most of his face and hair, completely disguising him. They were only left loose at the mouth and nose for breathing. Wide-lensed green goggles tamped down the fabric around his eyes.

Another taller shinobi dropped from a tree to land squarely behind him, dressed in the same manner.

She did a split-second summary, just as she'd been taught in academy. They were shinobi for sure. They moved silently. The masks looked like those of Mist or Rain nins, but the forest-colored fatigues did not. So, no known nation and no visible hints to skill or affinity. She turned her full attention back to the immediate threat.

Black eyes glinted behind the scraped lenses, watching her work through her situation. Only the telling crinkle at the corners betrayed his unseen smile. He didn't move, but Sakura knew she was caught.

_Damn it! She hadn't sensed anyone around her! _

But as she watched his eyes move interestedly over her face, she grew sickeningly away that if she didn't act fast, she was going to die here.

Sakura suddenly flung the sack of petals high into the air as a distraction while she reached for her kunai. She dug into her stance and grabbing for it, already planning her next moves, feeling the weapon and her salvation so close, just beyond her fingertips—

The rogue ninja advanced a pace and caught her wrist, never taking his eyes off of her.

He was perfectly prepared and read her movements effortlessly. The unknown nin leaned in close and said something…_something_…something she didn't catch but knew instinctively was threatening. It simply did not register to her.

Sakura was burning through her options. The captured hand grasped at air, and she swung the other into a desperate backhand. But it was the work of a moment for the ninja to block and hold the other one.

Using his solid stance, he halted her momentum and drew her hands together, bringing her up in front of his face. Piercing black eyes bore into hers.

Everything froze for a split second. Pink tendrils floated weightless in front of her eyes. Petals hung in the air around her. Even the unyielding gaze of the rogue nin seemed to pause. Then the world restarted as if it had never stopped. Sakura reflexively drew in a breath.

Pushing the disorienting moment away, she jerked back, trying to detangle herself from the nin…when she sensed something was different.

Something was _wrong_.

The blossoms were falling around her like snow. Sakura turned her head slightly and saw the white cloth fluttering in a wide slow spiral downward. She forgot she was fighting.

But the petals began clotting strangely. _Dangerously._ Her gaze swung in slow motion back over the man's shoulder. The woodland around her shimmered and swayed as if caught in a winter storm. The green leaves flickered out of existence behind the smothering white flurries.

The second shinobi advanced on the pair. His dark figure cutting through the streaks of white, coming straight for them.

Sakura watched in horror as his silhouette distorted and leaked like spilled ink across the rippling scene. It blotted out her vision and plunged them all into darkness.

She jerked back, but her hands were held fast. She tried to scream a warning to her team, but the sound died on her lips.

'No,' she pleaded soundlessly into the void. 'Not yet.' She had let her guard down, let everyone down.…

The darkness splashed across her thoughts and wiped everything else away.

* * *

"A little preoccupied?" he had said.

He couldn't resist the taunt before he applied the genjutsu. He caught her wrist easily, blocked and held the other hand, then shifted his dark eyes back to hers for the finishing touch to the illusion. He watched his handiwork play out across her face: Her eyes went unnaturally wide with fear, her mouth opened slightly with what he assumed was a last-ditch effort to scream, then her face went slack and her eyelids slid closed.

'Bingo,' he thought lightheartedly.

"You cut that one too close," the older ninja grumbled behind him. "Next time, just stick to the plan." He turned smoothly and lunged back into the canopy of the trees.

"Hai" the younger nin said, but he shot a frown of disagreement at the older man's back before hoisting the kunoichi onto his shoulder. He took two steps and retrieved the white cloth, then lunged up into the tree and disappeared.

Another light breeze stirred the last bits of blossoms aloft in his wake. They fell softly to the ground, leaving no hint of disturbance in the quiet, sun-dappled glade.

* * *

Edited 9/10/12

**Author's Note:**

_Full summary of this story added to profile, *whispers* including Katsuro's identity!_

In writing this little story, I want to investigate how certain statements can have a different meaning in when cast in a different light. I want to turn situations on their head, assign certain characteristics to characters in unconventional ways.

Though technically an alternative universe, I'm trying to write in the same vein as characterizations in the manga, keeping most of the details the same. Dress, personality, etc. will be the same. Timeline and bad guys just can't be the exact same, but I'll try to make it as feasible as possible.

What to watch for: Some things are assigned directly from the manga. Some things are a twist on a theme or a scene. Some things are characterizations yet to be revealed. Some things are hidden characterizations that will never be revealed within the story. (Why? Because they are just another layer of description that you can read into or not. Best example is the torn leaf scene, read below.)

There are overarching themes I will be weaving in and out throughout the story, as well as a few color cues for changes in activity/emotional tone.

Naruto © Masashi Kishimoto

**Chapter Notes:**

• "_Sakura had cut her hair before this mission, excusing the drastic change to those around her as a necessity, but telling herself it would be a mark of a turning point in her life."_ — Sakura decides to cut her own hair as a way to help her feel more mature and ninja-like. This is a twist on the manga, where her hair is cut by the baddies. But it reaches the same end as it helps her on her way to maturity.

• _He ran his hand absently over a cluster of leaves growing beside his foot, plucking off a particularly green leaf._ — Our ninja in the tree "plucks off a particularly green leaf." Both these represent Sakura here, her leaf-green eyes and as an inexperienced Leaf nin. This little movement will come back later.

• _He tore the leaf in two and set off._ — Hidden characterization: So, I don't name this ninja for a while, but you should be in no doubt of his identity. Only one character in the manga tore a leaf in two while doing his wind element training...

• Mystery ninja outfit — think Zabuza, with Kakashi's fatigues, Naruto's goggles.

• The third teammate — sorry, I've deliberately concealed third teammate's identity. It's just not important to the story right now

• Small changes to timeline — They are still genin. Right now, Sarutobi is still Hokage. The team would have been home taking the chunin exam had they not been such troublemakers. But they're not. So they will be staying genin for one more year while everyone else moves up. However, Sakura is already in her Part 2 outfit, and I've written her that way.


	2. Perseverance

**Chapter 2 - Perseverance**

Sakura cracked her heavy eyelids open. Grey mist covered everything. She knew at least that she was at the base of a giant tree. A few languid streams of light filtered down through lacy branches above her. The air had a pungent tang of wet earth and wood, save for a faint thread of smoke wafting from some unseen fire.

But that was as far as she got. Sakura couldn't fight off the grogginess long enough to identify anything else. Her thoughts slurred together, and she drifted back into thick sleep.

What felt like hours later, a shooting pain in her side drove her eyes open again. Sakura gasped, clinging to the awareness it afforded her and blinked her eyes hard to keep from sinking under again.

She immediately catalogued her surroundings: a forest, a smoking fire, moist earth clinging to her cheek and the incredible pain blazing along her left ribcage.

Trying to move, stretch her limbs and get out of the dirt proved to be impossible. Her hands were tightly bound behind her back. And she was sure the throbbing ache along her side was from being dropped among the roots of the ancient tree.

Relenting, she laid her cheek back down in the soft dirt and mentally picked through what she remembered of the previous day. She was with her team, then collecting herbs…but the rest were incoherent fragments. She worked over it all again.

Finally out of the murkiness, some memories rose full-formed to the surface: The image of the blossoms, unnaturally white and somehow falling like snow merged with a threatening image of dark eyes. She remembered now…. She had been ambushed.

Sakura squeezed her eyes against the snapshot memories and blew out a long, low breath, trying to quell her panic.

If she'd been caught by some unknown group, then her first priority would be to make an escape plan.

Moving slowly, hoping not to draw any attention to herself, Sakura craned her head to look at her surroundings. From her vantage point, she could see into an encampment. There was a slight clearing where a fire was indeed smoking itself out, and beyond were several tents, most small and hastily thrown up. Farther on, past more large trees, Sakura could just make out some larger campaign tents.

These must be the ones ambushing the merchants, she thought, bandits or rogue nins probably looking for a little money for her safe return.

Birds chirped brightly in the canopy overhead. _A good sign._ This meant that she'd been left alone for a while.

Sakura pushed herself off her hurt side and up onto her elbow. Pink hair fell away from her cheek and dragged in the dirt as she rocked herself forward. Squinting, she could just make out some figures past the largest tents, but couldn't discern anything else.

A sudden rustle nearby ended any hopes of a quiet getaway.

"Oi, the girl's waking up," a deep voice sounded through the trees. Her movements had not gone unnoticed.

A large figure in brown fatigues appeared above Sakura, grabbed her exposed elbow and hauled her swiftly into a sitting position.

For a moment, the trees actually swam in front of her, and the sky bloated oppressively overhead, as if an onslaught of water was being invisibly held back. Her stomach lurched. She squeezed her eyes shut against the vertigo and forced back bile, refusing to allow the involuntary push to vomit.

Genjutsu, she realized. And it had been powerful too.

"Hey, don't do that! She'll get sick," a different, clearer voice intoned somewhere above her head.

Sakura leaned her head back against the tree, face pale and skin clammy, and waited for the nausea to pass.

As if reciting from one of her academy books, she recounted the symptoms of genjutsu sickness and recovery time. Since it wasn't too deep, she thought, pausing to swallow then take a steadying breath, she should be feeling better shortly. She swallowed again and concentrated on the rhythm of her breathing and listened to the sound of heavy footfalls receding across the forest floor.

Then, just as suddenly as it had come on, the pressure around her abated. She cracked her eyes and looked up to see the trees and sky behaving as they should. She exhaled in relief.

"Better?" the same voice asked softly beside her.

Sakura blinked and slowly rolled her head towards its source. Perched on a root beside her was another man in brown fatigues. He wore the same face concealing wraps as the men who ambushed her, but this one had jettisoned any eye coverings.

The man, squatting nearly at her eye level, leaned forward on his knees and scanned her face intently. He was obviously watching for signs that any vertigo was fading, but he seemed to have a keen interest in her, studying her face as if memorizing it.

His gaze traveled over her her hair, her cheeks, lingered at her mouth (she frowned at that), then flashed back to her eyes. He tilted his chin thoughtfully, but didn't take his eyes from hers.

Railing at the uncomfortable intensity of his look, she decided she wouldn't buckle if he was trying to intimidate her. Instead she mirrored his actions, scrutinizing his face for anything even remotely traceable or memorable. But she found nothing. Even his eyes were unremarkable. No highlights, no deeper tones, just brown.

"Feeling better?"

She knew he had been waiting for her to either recover or empty the contents of her stomach.

He looked at her meaningfully and nodded, still waiting for for her to speak.

"Yes."

"Good" he said, hopping to his feet. "Because you've got work to do."

In short order she was up and being escorted toward the knot of tents beyond the large trees.

As she walked, she stole a glance at her warden. He scratched distractedly at a pair of goggles pushed onto the top of his head. Sakura narrowed her eyes.

She knew one thing for certain now — she had already met the man who walked next to her. After that genjutsu, she thought meanly, she'd probably recognize those damn scuffed up green goggles anywhere.

They passed a loose cluster of tents. Two men paused from sharpening kunais to nod deferentially to her escort. They eyed her with curiosity, not bothering to conceal their interest in the camp's newest addition. Sakura tried to size them up as well, but since they all wore the same garb, including head covers of some kind, identifying personal traits or even a nationality was impossible.

Some of their wraps reminded her strongly of a rogue nin from the Hidden Mist her team had gone up against in their genin days. _Could these bandits be defects from Kiri?_

The clusters of small tents became tighter, and Sakura and her captor had to weave through a maze of canvas flaps, ropes and pegs before reaching a large dusty fire circle. Several more men, all in the same fatigues and face covers, were settled around the circle, reclining on benches or lingering at large, flat boulders.

Across the dusty expanse, past the circle and it's tenants, a wall of large campaign tents stood silently. There seemed to be more rows of them, indicating that perhaps this was a headquarters.

The large tents were neatly organized and ominous. It made her breath catch in her chest. This was no band of desperate ambushers, she thought. This was an organized group with a military command center, not unlike Konoha's field garrison she remembered studying in her academy days.

Sakura's eyes darted around the circle. And these men were going to great lengths to conceal their identities.

She didn't have time to draw any more conclusions when she was parked unceremoniously on a long wood bench near the guttering fire. Her escort left her briefly to speak in hushed tones to another man standing at the edge of the circle. The other man nodded, then disappeared into the thicket of little tents.

"You're a medic nin, right?" her captor said, walking back over to her, eyes glinting as if he already knew the answer.

She turned her head away and set her chin. She'd give him no information.

"Right," he filled in for her firmly. He moved closer to get a better look at her face, the corners of his eyes crinkling up. "Or were you just out picking flowers to bring back to your teammate?"

Her stubborn expression yielded for a moment, but her escort had the confirmation he was looking for.

"You're not very good at this, are you?" he said, an obvious smirk stretching the face wrappings around his cheeks as if he couldn't resist taking her down a few pegs. Folding his arms over his chest, he began again. "You're in luck. We are in need of a medic. So if you're better at healing than you are at subterfuge, you might make it out of here."

"That's all you need — a medic?" Sakura hissed. "Why didn't you just get one in the local town? You can't be more than a half-day from a village."

He laughed at her. "Why do that when you made yourself available?" He ignored her other questions completely. She'd get no information out of him.

"No more talking. Time to work."

He removed the ties on her hands. Sakura rubbed her wrists and looked around, gauging at the same time if he wanted her to move and if there was a chance to escape. But there were a group of men approaching the bench, accompanied by the man her captor spoke to earlier. She sighed.

'Best to go along with this for now,' she thought.

"Here?" she asked her warden, who was now standing directly behind her. He nodded once in confirmation, and she turned to receive her first patient.

The man had a litany of minor wounds, scrapes, aches and pains. Sakura cloaked her hands in green light and shot a glance back down the line.

Probably all the same, she thought. But that was fine with her. She bit her lip, refocusing on the task at hand.

Sakura was glad this bunch was not in need of _real_ medical aid. Though she had been in med-nin training for well over a year, she was far from proficient. Anything above standard wounds and basic field first-aid was out of her grasp. Not from lack of skill, however — she simply didn't have enough time for training.

Grinding missions with her team left little room for anything else. She was happy to have finally found something she excelled at, but there wasn't really a place for a med-nin on their team.

And after this mess she would be even more behind in her training. Sakura sighed to herself as she finished sealing a cut. Sometimes she felt like she was doomed to fall behind.

Sakura mentally shook off the negative thoughts. She knew she couldn't let her spirits flag, not when she was basically a hostage in an unknown encampment. As it was, she happened to be very good at treating minor injuries, and these men were rife with them. Sakura told her patient he was finished and waved over the next man to sit down.

The day dragged on. Minor lacerations and kunai wounds blurred together under her glowing hands. But the sheer monotony began to prey on Sakura.

_If this was what they brought her here for, then how long would she last in their camp? How many bandits needed to be healed? Would it be enough time for her team to find her? _

_And once they had no use for her as a medic.…_

Well, she didn't want to think of that.

But that thought gave her a measure of clarity. Perhaps it wasn't so bad to be working on minor ailments, she thought as she looked down the long line.

Sakura waved the next man on, testing out whether she could heal and inflict injury at the same time. A small flick of her hand sent the chakra bending in ways she knew it shouldn't. The man flinched immediately.

Sakura cooed, "Ooo sorry, I should have told you that might pinch a little."

She let the chakra ebb from her hand and he felt better, but the damage had been done. And now she knew how far she could go. She patted him on the back and waved on the next man.

Sakura plodded away, healing and inflicting her own wounds on the rogues. With a little flick of extra chakra she gave them all parting gifts, mostly internal lacerations, which would require her attention in the days to come.

Whatever plans they had for her, at least she was building in her usefulness.

'Better to be needed than to be dead,' she thought darkly.

Obviously having nothing better to do, several of the men stood around and watched after they received their treatments. The kunoichi resented the audience, especially with what she was trying to accomplish, but there was nothing she could do.

Sakura continued on, treating a wound then inflicting a new one, but eventually she could feel the first effects of chakra depletion kicking in. Sakura tried her best to remember ailments and inflict an injury that corresponded to the spot, but a few times she forgot.

One of the men pointed out that his wound was on his arm, not so close to his collar bone as Sakura had moved. She coughed, moved her hand smoothly away from the spot and put on her best doctor's voice.

"Of course, I'm just making sure there's no extenuating damage," she said.

The injured man seemed placated with her excuse, and she finished healing the area he had pointed out. 'No extra injury for him,' she thought.

When he stood, Sakura wiggled her fingers and stretched her arms as if tired, buying herself some time to check out the cluster of men loitering behind her.

She recognized about a half-dozen of the men as ones she'd already treated — some she'd injured again, some she'd spared. She glanced face to face quickly, then skimmed over body language, careful never to let her gaze rest on one spot too long.

She saw nothing to cause her alarm. They seemed just as shiftless as ever, standing in little throngs, hands on hips, muttering to each other and grimacing at the world. Apparently her exchange with the last man had gone unnoticed.

Sakura let out a small breath, gave her neck a final exaggerated stretch, then nodded to her warden. Clearly bored by the whole thing, he lazily shifted his stance and waved on the next patient. Sakura stuck to healing only on the next few men just to be safe.

And eventually, to her relief, the line dwindled. She was beginning to worry her chakra reserves would run out before the line did. But as her last patient stood to go, and no more presented themselves, she drew in a deep, tired breath. She felt like she'd been the only doctor on duty after the hospital's busiest day.

"Am I done?" Sakura said, stretching her back. This time she didn't have to fake it.

"Looks like it." Her captor stifled a yawn behind her. "Give me your hands."

Sakura defiantly put her hands in front, certain he meant to tie her hands behind her back again, but he bound her wrists together in front without a word.

He pulled her up, and they walked back to the campfire where several of the recently healed men were lazing. Sakura was parked on a stone in full sight of them, so she couldn't run, while he disappeared between the tarps. He quickly reappeared with two apples.

"Here, eat," he said, shoving the apple into her bound hands. "You need to keep your strength up."

Sakura looked at the apple wedged between her fingers with growing defiance. Healing their men and gathering information may have served her purposes, but eating their food seemed traitorous, no matter how hungry or chakra depleted she may be.

Sakura dug her fingernails into it's red skin. "Don't worry about my strength," she said firmly. "I won't be staying long."

Beside her, her jailor had plopped down, loosened the concealments around his mouth and was happily crunching his apple.

"Huh?" he responded mid-bite.

"I said, I won't be here long. My partner is the best ninja in Konoha, and he will stop at nothing to find me—"

Laughter erupted beside her. A few of the men looked up.

"You mean the one you whipped before you left your little _hideout_?" her warden said exuberantly, pointing his half-eaten apple in her face. "Yeah, he'll be right along after you, I'm sure."

More of the men looked over, and her escort, seeing he had an audience, related the kunoichi's prank on her teammate. She sat stonily, ignoring his goading and the chuckles of the men. But she still felt like a mouse being toyed with by a cat.

Some of his teammates did not see the humor however. They snorted and hurled quiet insults instead. Sakura turned her head a fraction to catch some of the dissenting voices.

"Another foolish prankster with nothing to offer."

"Yeah, like we need another..."

"Leave it to him to waste our time—"

"Boy's been fooled by a pretty face."

A half-eaten apple skidded past Sakura's feet. The digs were aimed at the man beside her, and by his quick response she could tell they'd found their mark.

He was up, fists clenched and feet planted sturdily beneath him, ready to retaliate.

Most of the men laughed off his anger, but a few stared back challengingly. Sakura took note of the strife in the group. She might be able to use it to her advantage later.

Her warden started to move, clearly considering taking on a few of the grumbling men, when a shift in the air sent almost all of them into a more alert stance. The rogues sat or stood quickly, jettisoned whatever time-wasting occupation they had, and adopted the closest appearance of a band of soldiers she'd seen from them yet. But there was something a little cowardly in their expressions they couldn't quite hide.

However her warden was not so quick to jump to attention. He registered the chakra change as well, but he lazily retraced his steps to stand casually beside Sakura.

The rest of the bandits reminded her forcefully of errant school children about to be disciplined. But the one beside her was not distressed at all. Hands shoved carelessly in his pockets, he seemed resigned to waiting and watching the space between the large tents,

She set the apple aside and followed his gaze, curious to see who could illicit such a response from this bunch.

A man fluidly rounded the corner, his black cloak rippling at his calves as he walked. He padded so smoothly across the dusty ground that his shoulders and limbs were nearly motionless, giving him the disconcerting appearance of gliding. There was a grace about him that was rare even among shinobi. Skilled in stealth, Sakura was just summing up, but she stopped suddenly as his face came into view.

His features were horribly familiar: pale skin, flat black eyes, glossy dark hair. His face had a pallor which gave him a menacing air, rendering the elegance of his movements into something infinitely more terrifying. This man was a killer. And she knew exactly who he was.

Sakura flattened her hands nervously in her lap. This man was a nightmare version of her stormy teammate Sasuke.

Black eyes swept over the group — the flicker of a frown told her that this scene was not what he expected — and landed back on her companion momentarily. He nodded at the man beside her, black wisps dancing along his face, then shifted his emotionless gaze a fraction to settle on the her.

A long dark ponytail trailed down his shoulder as he tipped his chin to assess her.

Sakura quickly looked down, focusing on the ground past the edge of her shoes. She still prayed that somehow she was wrong about his identity.

The silence was punctured by the sound of gravel crunching beside her as her warden shifted his feet, coughed once and sighed. He was clearly unflustered by the scrutiny.

Sakura sat frozen on the stone, trying to keep her palpable fear concealed as long as possible.

With barely a whisper preceding them, the tips of two black sandals came into line in front of her feet and stopped. The fabric of a his cloak curled into the space between them. Sakura swallowed involuntarily.

"What is your name," a low voice addressed her as calmly as if she were a child who had wandered into their camp.

But Sakura did not trust his smooth tones. She kept her gaze trained on the ground.

"Are you a teammate of Uchiha Sasuke," he asked again patiently. And again she gave no response.

"Well then, do you know who I am?"

Sakura sat painfully still. _Of course she knew who he was. How could she not!_

In front of her was Konoha's most dangerous nukenin. The one who slaughtered his entire clan save one. He was Itachi Uchiha.

Sakura pushed her fingers against her legs to keep them from trembling.

Itachi squatted down in front of her and steepled his fingers. Never changing his voice, the raven-haired man moved directly into her eye line. Sakura's only response was fear-driven: She knew what was coming next and shut her eyes.

He slid his fingers into a clasp. "You may open your eyes," he said, still speaking as if she were a child. But the patience was gone from his voice. Now there was an edge that meant he expected obedience. "I understand you've had some experience with genjutsu, but it will not be necessary today. Open your eyes please," he ended firmly.

Sakura took him at his word, truly afraid of the consequences if she didn't, and opened her eyes. But she focused on the ground beyond his shoulder.

"There's a good girl," he drawled.

Even if she tried, Sakura could not have stopped her lips from pressing into a thin line at the condescending remark. She flicked her eyes involuntarily to his face.

Itachi nodded almost imperceptibly, signaling that she had given the desired response to his provoking remark.

"Sasuke is my little brother, and I have an interest in him," the man continued on as if they had resumed their pleasant conversation. "I would like to know how he is doing and how his skills are progressing. You and I are from the same village, I am sure we will find we have many things in common. Think about what I've said, and we will speak again later." He rose in a single fluid movement.

Sakura swallowed hard and stared at the ground where he was crouching, her body frozen in disbelief, her thoughts a whirlwind. _Itachi Uchiha._ This was no ambush for ransom. This was a targeted attack by Konoha's most feared rogue nin.

Sakura forced her expression to stay blank, desperately trying to mask the horror that was bubbling up within her.

Itachi spoke to her warden, issuing orders with a measure of respect.

"Katsuro, make sure she eats. If the apple doesn't suit then find something that does. And don't waste any more of her chakra on them," he motioned with a careless flick of his long fingers to the men across the fire circle. Each one was alert to the little nuance as if his life depended on it. "She is now your responsibility. Make sure she arrives safely. It is of the highest priority."

Her captor, this _Katsuro_, agreed, and Itachi strode back to the large tents, disappearing completely into the shadows.

"Come on," yawned her warden.

In shock, Sakura blindly followed him, putting one foot in front of the other, oblivious to everything else. Her mind was racing: _Why was Itachi here? What could he want to know about Sasuke? And what information could she possibly provide him? _

She didn't trust any of his little speech. He didn't want to talk with her — he was a murderer! This was really, really bad.

Fears leaping out of control, Sakura tamped them down, shakily telling herself to think, come up with a new plan—

"Here we are!" Katsuro's voice cut across her thoughts. She blinked, slowly realizing just how far they'd walked from the main camp.

"These will be your accommodations while you're with us," he said and fanned his arm out toward a clearing. A single tent and a tiny fire circle sat at the base of a few large trees. Sakura stared at it, a little confused that she'd be given her own tent, until she realized that he was pointing to the trees.

"What!?" she said indignantly. "You're going to tie me to a…to a tree?"

"Yup! Take your pick." He dropped his pack onto a log as they passed the fire circle. "Can't just have you hanging about the camp while I'm gone, now can we?"

Sakura glowered at him, cursing his cheerfulness. But maybe two could play at that game….

"So…where are you going," she said, lacing her question with wide-eyed innocence.

He just laughed and kept walking. Katsuro pointed to a tree nearest the tent and backed her up to it. He held a length of rope at her waist and flung the rest around the back of the tree.

"You might want to have a seat. Standing out here for a few hours is not going to be very comfortable," he said and wrapped the rope loosely around her midsection.

Sakura ignored him. "What are you—"

"Sit down," he ordered and pushed a hand down on her head, forcing her into sitting. Sakura huffed, but angrily folded her legs underneath her.

Katsuro took up the slack in the ropes and checked the tension. Sakura thought for a moment if this was all he was going to do, tie her by the waist to a tree, then she'd be out of here the moment he turned his back.

But when he unwound the leather bindings from one hand then walked back behind the massive trunk again, all hope of an escape was squashed.

"Ok," he said brightly from somewhere behind the tree. "Now reach your arms behind you and give that tree a big ol' hug."

Sakura growled at his infuriatingly chipper mood. But before she had a chance to tell him off, he called out again.

"Do it now, on your own," he warned, "and I won't tie it too tight. Trust me," he laughed lowly, "that's the much better option."

He was right, there weren't too many options here. And she could probably strategize better in comfort than in pain. So Sakura slowly lifted both arms behind her and wrapped them around the tree, palms flat against the bark.

"There you go!" She could hear the smile in his voice. He obviously pleased with himself. It made her want to pull her hands back out of spite.

Katsuro tied them back behind the tree as loosely as possible. There was freedom enough to flex her arms but not enough to escape.

Walking around front again, he squatted down in front of her. "Don't worry, I won't be gone long. But you can stay like that for a while and still be OK. Believe me, I know." The corners of his eyes crinkled with his smile. Sakura just scowled back at him.

Katsuro stood and impetuously reached out a hand to tousle her hair, thinking wickedly it would make her even angrier. He wasn't disappointed. She jumbled curses and wrenched her head away, pulling her hair with her. Katsuro relaxed his hand, distantly aware of the coolness of the strands as they slipped through his rough fingers.

"Well, be good," he said cheerfully, then crossed the clearing and ducked under the tent.

Sakura was left alone with her anger…and her fears.

'That is probably what they want,' she thought darkly. 'We are our own worst enemies.'

She tried to use her time to strategize her way out of there. But she soon found that thinking about Itachi drew a near insurmountable level of fear, so Sakura opted to review everything she'd learned, names she'd heard, the size of the camp, how many tents there were, the food they ate, anything and everything…and commit it to memory. She was on her third round of repeating the same data, when the man — _Katsuro, _she thought robotically,_ my height, brown eyes, bad sense of humor_ — emerged from the tent.

This time, though, he had traded his brown fatigues for a more pale attire, as well as what looked to be a traveling cloak. When he turned fully, checking a few things, she got a better glimpse of his head covering. Instead of the cloth that draped over the top and back of his head, the fabric covered fully half of his face and was positioned with a Suna headband. The goggles were discarded completely, although the wraps still concealed his facial features.

'Sand,' Sakura thought to herself. 'They're disguising themselves as other villages.' But immediately Itachi's involvement sprang to mind, toppling the easiest theories. It seemed unlikely that he would be part of a gang ambushing lowly merchants, if that was in fact what they were doing.

Katsuro saluted her briskly then was off, bounding up into the tree and leaping from branch to branch back toward camp.

Sakura was alone again.

After what felt like hours of repeating the same information, the steady chirp of a nearby bird distracted her.

"Birds," she said, just to hear her own voice. Where her team had been situated there had been no sounds at all. Every creature had decamped in the heat. So where was she exactly? Sakura set to studying her surroundings to keep her mind occupied.

The trees around the camp were no different than the ones along the old road. But the air here was not as stifling as it had been the past several days. And the landscape was definitely more rolling and hilly. This meant that she had traveled quite far from her team. But couldn't tell whether it was farther north or just higher into mountains.

Sakura leaned her head back against the tree and stared dully at the empty campsite. It was so far from the rest of the tents that she couldn't even hear the group.

She looked longingly at the undisturbed woods beyond the little tent. Light slanted down through the trees, gossamer spiderwebs glistened in the branches, and tiny insects took to the air, their wings illuminated in the late afternoon sun. Her freedom was right there in front of her, but she could not take it.

More slowly than she ever thought possible, the sun sank below the hill and took all the colors of the forest with it. Sakura felt her spirits slipping away with the dying light.

Around her the nighttime forest was rattling to life. The riotous chorus of crickets and tree frogs was only drowned out by the steady buzzing of the occasional insect at her ear.

Sakura strained her eyes for as long as she could, willing the forest scenery to stay in front of her. She memorized the edges of trees, praying those would not dissolve into the murky, misty darkness that was fast descending on her. But eventually it did.

Tipping her head side to side and rolling her shoulders, Sakura closed her eyes and breathed in the cool air. But when she opened them again there was simply nothing left to see. The dense forest canopy had smudged out even the moon and stars

Hanging her head tiredly in front of her, nothing to focus on in the darkness except her own predicament, Sakura's resolve slipped away entirely.

She began to ache for her home, regret her decisions, doubt her abilities and wish for her teammates to come.

They wouldn't want to, she knew, and would only do it out of obligation. Sasuke was sure to demand retribution after this scrape, especially since she whipped him so soundly in the forest. Now she cringed at the memory. But she'd happily bear the brunt of all his anger and any future punishments they might dream up, just to be with people she knew and on her way home.

Sakura puffed air up the front of her face, fanning her hair back and blowing insects away, but the buzzing began again momentarily. Shaking her head hard, she flexed her arms frustratedly against her bindings.

If it had been _Ino_ tied to a tree instead, Sakura thought petulantly, her teammates Chouji and Shikamaru would have stopped at nothing to get her.

A mental rundown of the other teams produced the same results. They all had a bond that she was never able to attain with her own team. It wasn't about fighting well together — they were willing to go through hell for one another.

But now, utterly alone, in enemy hands, facing the horror of betraying her teammate to the man he hated most in the world, doubt was nagging at her.

Sakura tried to imagine them sprinting through the canopy, searching desperately for her. But that image rang false.

What if they went home for reinforcements? Then help might not come for days. And she didn't think she had days to wait.

She bit her lip. Would her team really leave her…her friends, abandon her? Were they right now, on their way home...without her?

She shook her head ruefully at the thought. Sakura knew she'd already hit upon the truth: These weren't her friends. They were barely teammates. And she had no guarantees.

Her sensei had always harped about bonds. But now Kakashi's words hit home — that bond was not for the good times, it was for the bad times. It was something to cling to in a time of danger.

Sakura hung her head and leaned forward against her bindings. She remembered what she'd been taught at academy, sitting in neat little rows in that sun filled classroom, about the beauty of the Konoha fighting strategy. She could hear her Iruka-sensei's inspiring voice, filling up every corner.

"You are bound to someone who would go to the ends of the earth for you, to protect you or to save you."

Sakura squeezed her eyes shut and shook her head, not wanting to remember anymore. Because it was clear now, what she had waited for, _hoped_ for, was never there. For all her team's genius and skill, that vital strategy — the bond of friendship — had never been developed.

A few tears streaked down the sides of her cheeks. She understood too late the precious value of that camaraderie. It could be the difference between life and death.

Wet drops pattered onto her knees. The cold feeling reminding her she still had legs somewhere under the clinging darkness. Sakura squeezed her hands to keep the feeling in them. The bindings creaked like mooring ties, anchoring her mercilessly to the old tree.

But maybe all hope wasn't lost, she thought darkly. Maybe Ino's team would come for her.

Sakura tried to laugh at the irony, but it came out as sob. So she tipped her head back against the tree, closed her eyes and let the tears come.

* * *

Far away, across the dark forest floor, among the roots of another ancient tree, dry leaves crackled in the stillness. Any signs of occupation were cleared away. Backpacks were hoisted on.

The momentary whisper of fabric on fabric was replaced by the rhythmic crunch of footfall on gravel. Two pairs of feet retraced the worn path back down the forest road.

Silence descended again on the forest. The branches of a woody shrub, a bush which had until recently served as a shelter, slowly eased back into their natural position. All except for one long limb. Snapped off and carelessly discarded, it now lay wilted and dying in the empty woods.

* * *

_Edited 9/14/12_


	3. Harsh Words

**Chapter 3 - Harsh Words**

Sometime in the night, the bindings on Sakura's arms dropped away. Her hands slipped down the rough sides of the tree trunk. She blinked several times — the nighttime veil was so thick she didn't know if her eyes were open or closed. But she had the vague sensation of a body beside her in the darkness.

Dots of pressure suddenly danced up her arm then melted into a warm hand. It rocked her shoulder back and forth gently.

"Come on," a low, extremely tired voice said above her head. "You can't sleep like this." But she didn't move.

"It's _me_," Katsuro repeated, exasperation seeping in to his voice. "Come on."

Sakura already knew who it was. But it wasn't from fear that she didn't move.

"My waist," she said, her voice sounding thick and tired to her own ears.

"Oh yeah," he exhaled.

Momentarily, the ropes dropped across her lap. The hand returned to her shoulder. Fingers dragged back down her limp arm and wrapped around her wrist. Katsuro materializing beside her and helped her to her feet.

"Come on," he said again, stifling a yawn.

She walked blindly behind him, stumbling several times. Her legs and arms felt like they were attached to puppet strings, and her hands burned with the rush of blood.

Katsuro stopped suddenly, his hand tightening on her wrist to prevent her from toppling over. She heard the rustle of fabric and had only an instant to register that they were at his tent before he moved forward and his hand tugged her downward. She resisted involuntarily, body half bent at the tent opening, a thousand objections raising in her mind.

"Look, I've got an extra blanket," came his voice, muffled from somewhere behind a canvas flap, prepared for her argument. Fabric swished and his voice became clear again. "I'll tie my hand to yours, that way we can both get some sleep."

Another insistent tug on her wrist, accompanied by "duck your head," was the only warning she got before she was dragged forward into the tent.

Sakura had a moment of dizziness, muscles feeling waterlogged and her equilibrium swimming from the darkness and disorientation, but it passed as she found the ground and came to a more natural sitting position. He pushed a thin blanket roll into her lap and let her get adjusted.

After a moment he asked for her hand. He wrapped the binding around her wrist, then his own, leaving a few inches slack for comfort. Satisfied, he slipped beneath his own blanket.

"I can't let you sleep out there," he yawned. "I wouldn't wish that on anyone."

Sakura said nothing, instead stretched her aching limbs under the musty old blanket. A small yawn escaped. The sweet relief in her muscles and the need for sleep quickly overtook all her objections.

After a few moments, Katsuro's drowsy voice interrupted the stillness. "Just…just don't tell anyone about this." Then his breathing slipped into the steady rhythm of sleep too.

* * *

Sakura woke up alone the next morning. Sun dappled the canvas walls of the musty tent.

She quietly sat up, stretched, then rubbed the binding still tied to one wrist. Now she had time to examine the worn brown strap a little more carefully. Sakura pooled green light at her fingertips and sunk them into the fleshy leather. Just as she suspected, the leather absorbed her chakra as if it were a sponge.

Sighing, Sakura carefully leaned forward and peeked out of the tent. Her movement didn't go unnoticed. A loud "Oi!" rang out from the direction of the tiny fire circle.

'Ugh,' she thought, and pulled the flap back.

"Good! You're up!" Katsuro stood. "Let's get something to eat."

Sakura looked him over. Katsuro had returned to his brown fatigues and face-concealing wraps from the day before, the pale Sand cloak and head gear he wore last night were draped over a log. He nodded at her impatiently, urging her on.

In short order, she found herself seated on one of the large smooth stones at the main campfire, balancing a small bowl on her knees.

"Eat," was his only instruction.

Their entrance to the main camp had not garnered much attention, and Sakura made as little eye contact as possible. A quick glance around showed the rest of the men similarly dressed as Katsuro. Some were eating, some were sharpening their weapons. A few were competing for who could pitch rocks the farthest. What a shiftless bunch, she thought. Katsuro walked over to observe their contest.

Sakura pushed the lumpy, grey masses around her bowl, unsure if it was meat or vegetable or rice. Or some unholy combination of all three. She wished she'd saved the apple from yesterday.

Stubbornly quelling her hunger, Sakura dared another look to see how everyone else was faring. Did they really eat this stuff everyday or was this just reserved for hostages? Several emptied bowls indicated it was served to everyone. She looked back at her own dish and grimaced. Maybe she'd go without, she thought, then clasped her bound hands together behind the bowl and sat quietly.

Across the circle, a burly man called out her judgement of the food. "Look at her! She don't like our food! At least we're feeding her, the ungrateful little…."

Sakura squared her shoulders, ignoring them. In her peripheral vision, she saw Katsuro whip around quickly, frown first at the man, then at her body language. But he turned away as if it didn't matter to him.

Sakura relaxed her shoulders a bit. It was a small victory but she'd take it—

"So as I was saying," Katsuro continued a little louder. "There were absolutely no signs of the Leaf nins."

Sakura froze, held her breath and listened hard. But when no other information followed, she cut her eyes in his direction. Now several of the men were watching her. Seeing that she'd been baited, Sakura resolved to ignore him. She looked back down, pretending to study study her fingernails.

But this only goaded him further.

"Nope, I don't think they are going to come for her after all. And we've been watching for them," he said a little louder. "Even at the farthest outpost there hasn't been the slightest sign." A few men shrugged and went back to their occupations.

Katsuro took his bowl and walked back to where she was sitting, swaggering slightly. But his gloating proved to be too big a target for the other men.

"And who's fault is that?" the burly man sneered. "If you had opted for someone of skill and usefulness rather than just a pretty face, then the big boss would have what he needed by now, wouldn't he?" The rail-thin man sitting beside him laughed meanly.

Sakura glanced up. Katsuro was walking toward her, eyes blazing, shoulders tight. But he refused to turn around and address them.

So these men had it out for him. And he knew it. Interesting, she thought, watching the bowl tremble in his hand from being gripped too tightly.

The skinny man chimed in next. "If Konoha can abandon her so easily, then she's not worth anything to us either. But that's on your head now, isn't it Kat-su-ro…." He drawled out the name maliciously.

"Bastards," Katsuro growled. He slammed the dish down on the rock beside her, flipping the food out everywhere. Sakura leaned sideways to avoid flying clumps, but Katsuro could care less. He had already turned, fists clenched and was stalking back toward the other nins, shoving the sleeves up his forearms. "If you have a problem—"

"Katsuro!" a man's voice boomed from the edge of one of the large campaign tents.

The rest of the men immediately turned away and quickly disappeared into the thicket of tents. None wanted to get caught up in whatever discipline might be meted out to him. The big guy and his skinny partner hung back, laughing at Katsuro, but they soon decamped with rest.

Katsuro halted. Fists still ground closed, he grudgingly watched the men disappear, then turned and stomped toward the voice. Little puffs of silt rose up around his feet as he crossed the circle.

In the shadows was another man, this one dressed in dark fatigues. He didn't wear face concealments, but Sakura still couldn't distinguish any unique features. He never left the line of tents, opting to speak to her captor in hushed tones.

They must have been speaking about her, Sakura decided, because the other man pointed discreetly in her direction a few times. Whatever was said though, her warden didn't agree with. Katsuro frustratedly swept his hand where the rogues had been lazing, then jerked his head back at her, obliterating all discretion. The man simply shook his head and pointed firmly towards her, before returning to the large tents.

Katsuro stormed back over, eyes down, deep in thought. His cheerful demeanor had completely evaporated.

"Up," he snapped, and hooked a hand under her elbow. He hauled her to standing in a single motion. The uneaten bowl of food slid sideways off her lap and spilled in the dust at their feet.

Katsuro angrily stepped over the mess and marched her back to the little campsite in silence.

* * *

Sakura had very little to occupy herself with over the course of the day. And the decline in her captor's mood didn't ease her boredom.

She was returned to the spot at the tree without a word from Katsuro except "Sit." Sakura wasn't sure what had happened, if the cause was his teammates, his superior or her, or a combination of all three. But she decided the best route for now would be to quietly obey.

He disappeared for a while, then returned with a cache of weapons and laid them all out for inspection, cleaning and sharpening whichever ones needed work. Sakura watched him methodically going through the tools, surprised to learn he carried identical weaponry to shinobi of her village.

He worked so diligently for so long that Sakura had stopped paying close attention until a little movement drew her notice.

Sharpening a knife against a stone balanced on his leg, Katsuro unconsciously scratched the wrappings at his cheek then returned to his work. Green eyes half-closed, Sakura kept only a dull focus on Katsuro. But she was mildly surprised when he rubbed his face again. After the third time, she was observing him keenly and forcing herself to maintain the look of abject boredom.

Irritated with the interruption to his work, Katsuro slid his fingers under the wrappings, hooking them to pull them down around his neck, when he stopped suddenly.

Katsuro cut his eyes over at the silent girl tied to the tree nearby. He frowned, clearly just remembering that she was there. He sullenly pushed his face wraps back into place and continued his work.

'Damn,' Sakura thought and slumped her shoulders. There was no reason to hide her disappointment now. She sighed loudly and lolled her head from side to side.

There were other breaks in the monotony, although those were equally as unwelcome as playing morbid games of guess-your-captor.

Injured men trickled into the little campsite throughout the day. They came, one by one, begging for a little relief from the general malaise that had mysteriously plagued them through the night.

Katsuro refused each one of them, growing more irritated every time. Eventually he could barely get another kunai sharpened before he was interrupted again.

"She won't heal you! Go away," he bellowed finally at just the sound of footsteps coming through the woods.

Sakura held her amusement in check. She pointedly ignored the first men who started dropping by, not wanting to contribute to captor's foul mood.

But when the same men began appearing a second time, each looking beseechingly around Katsuro to Sakura and holding their stomachs, she knew she would have to deal with them. And the sooner the better. As the pain increased so would the amount of men hanging around the little campsite.

When a man came a third time and Katsuro nearly lobbed his kunai at him, Sakura spoke up.

"It's no problem," she called over to him. Katsuro whipped his head around to glare at her. Her bravado left her for a moment at his fierce look, but she cleared her throat and started again.

"It's no problem to take a look at them. It doesn't take much chakra," she said.

She tipped her head and waited for his response, but he turned back to his work, ignoring both her and the offending patient shuffling on the other side of the fire circle.

"You know, it might just be a cold," she offered innocently, knowing full well that it wasn't.

He didn't look up. She changed tack.

"They'll keep coming back, you know. All night long, too," she said warningly. The rogue clutching his stomach nodded vigorously.

"If I can treat them now, it won't be too taxing," she said, hoping he would see the wisdom of letting her loose for a little while. He angrily pitched his newly sharpened kunai toward the pile. It embedded itself in the dirt, handle trembling. He reached for another to sharpen.

"But," she drew out, "if I have to wait until the middle of the night, when their pain is much worse…." She sighed for effect. "Well, it will be harder for all of us."

Katsuro growled and angrily threw the unsharpened kunai into the finished pile. It clanged loudly when it hit. He stomped over to the girl, never making eye contact, and ripped the bindings loose from behind the tree.

Winding back around to the front, Katsuro glared at her. "Do what you need to do. Then get him out of here," he said, pointing to the man across the site.

She nodded once, looking up at him with large green eyes and an expressionless face. It was a carefully constructed mask to cover her triumphant feeling.

She went into med-nin mode and set right to her task. Silently pointing to a fallen tree to sit on, Sakura began to examine the rogue, taking extra time to work her way around to what she knew was his particular injury. Katsuro silently fished the dull kunai out of the sharpened pile and resumed his work.

Soon another man appeared, clutching his midsection, hoping to press his luck with the unhappy Katsuro and his captive medic. Another came, then another. Before long, word had spread through the unwell that Sakura was accepting patients, despite Katsuro's foul mood.

She instructed them where to sit, in order of symptom, thinking merrily to herself that she was the source of their problems. Back at home it had always suited Sakura to be working. But now she was doubly grateful to have a task to occupy her time, knowing that the alternative was being tied to a tree.

Katsuro resumed sharpening his weapons and ignored them all. Sakura and the rest of the men gave him a wide berth.

The previous day, Sakura had tried to vary the injuries she inflicted, but they all presented in the morning with symptoms in the same area. This was acceptable, she thought, because they would suspect a minor virus before looking any further. However, it would limit how much more damage she could do without giving herself away.

She set about easing the pain of the largest complaints and prolonging the unwell feelings of those least sick. This would buy her a little more time, but not as much as she'd hoped. Biting her lip, Sakura sheathed her hands in healing chakra and refocused on injury in front of her.

Nearby, relishing the silence and meditating on the uniform smoothness of the newly polished weapon in his hand, Katsuro thought about the fragments of his day, shattered before it had even begun. Exhaustion followed by no breakfast, the antagonizing bastards at camp then receiving marching orders. He set the weapon down and reached for another kunai.

It stung that he was the only one to get punished when those men clearly deserved a good thrashing. And then for the old captain to say that Itachi was not pleased and that it would take longer to get anything worthwhile out of her…. Katsuro shook his head in disagreement.

But both jabs were essentially the same: That he made a poor choice in selecting her. That he had been swayed by a pretty face and her little prank.

Katsuro watched the kunoichi quietly work on his companions. The edges of her slender hands glowed a soft green. A curtain of pink hair tipped forward over her face. She paused, caught the offending lock and curled it behind her ear, then returned to her work, never breaking concentration.

Looking down at the kunai in his own hands, Katsuro hooked the loop with is fingers and spun it around a few times before sharpening it.

Sure his assignment was to pick someone from the same team as their target, Itachi's younger brother. And he thought her pulling a prank on her teammate was a good sign. And yeah, he supposed it didn't hurt that she was much nicer to look at than the rest of his bunch.

But that wasn't why he chose her.

Katsuro thought back to the first time he saw her, all pink hair and pale skin, tumbling out of that pathetic hiding place. Her arrogant teammate standing aside to let her fall. But she picked herself up and gave it right back to him. Yeah, he could understand that, he laughed softly to himself.

Katsuro ran the kunai through a cloth in his palm, the dull grey edge polished away. Now a thin bead of silver gleamed down both sides of the blade.

He pictured her wicked little smile before she whipped her teammate, knowing that is was a triumph, if only just a small one, over someone who so clearly had it out for her.

'I think she knows more than she realizes,' he thought with his own small smile. 'Those kinds of people should never be underestimated.'

Katsuro pushed all the other thoughts away. There was no doubt in his mind he'd made the right choice. If Itachi needed more time to retrieve information from her, then so be it. He plunged the weapon into the soft earth and reached for another.

Sakura worked quietly through the late afternoon, hands glowing in the deepening shadows. A few times she noticed Katsuro pause and look over, but she assumed it was to make sure she wasn't going to escape. He carried on as if having a hostage heal men in camp was the most normal thing in the world. But being left alone seemed to improve his mood, she decided.

A metallic clang drew Sakura's attention. She looked up from a patient to see Katsuro had dropped his last sharpened weapon onto the pile. He stopped a recently healed man on his way out of camp and spoke to him quietly. The man nodded once then departed, and Katsuro came to stand at her shoulder and watch her work.

"How much longer will it take?" he said softly in between patients.

She looked down at the last few men. "Not too much longer."

"How are you holding up?"

It wasn't a personal question. Sakura remembered Itachi's command to refrain from healing the men. Katsuro was checking to make sure she hadn't gone beyond anything noticeable.

"Fine," she said crisply. "I haven't wasted too much chakra." Katsuro just nodded. Well, at least he wasn't blistering mad anymore, she thought.

Katsuro repacked his weapons in his rucksack then squatted to start a little fire for extra light. Sakura waved over the last patient. He sat in front of her on the fallen tree, facing her, and pointed to his collarbone.

But the sound of a brittle twig snapping interrupted her work.

Out of the evening gloom, two more men approached the campsite. Sakura thought they might have been straggler patients, but the two stopped just beyond the fire circle.

She recognized them immediately: The tall, burly one from the main camp who had given Katsuro some problems and his lanky friend, looking even thinner in his ill-fitting fatigues. He twirled something cylindrical in his hand.

They had a threatening air about them. Sakura squinted, unsure if it was a trick of the low light. Cutting her eyes at Katsuro confirmed it, though.

He rose slowly from the sputtering campfire and stared them down. Hands on his hips, he anticipated trouble. She was in agreement — these men were up to no good.

After a few moments, the big one nodded to his companion. He stepped forward with what appeared to be an important-looking scroll. He rolled it tauntingly in his long thin, fingers.

Katsuro exhaled and broke the stand off. He stepped toward the man, hand opened expectantly. But the big man snatched the missive out of his companion's hand before he could toss it to Katsuro.

"No food," he drawled. "Looked around, couldn't find anything." His tone made Sakura think he probably didn't look very far.

"But Itachi left you this," he said, and pitched the unfurling scroll to Katsuro.

Katsuro narrowed his eyes and thumbed the broken seal, then angrily flicked it open with one hand.

Half-hidden by her patient, Sakura silently observed the scene from her seat on the fallen tree. She had slowed her healing to keep the glow from her hand as unobtrusive as possible. But there was still a faint pulse in the darkness.

The man she was working on seemed patently nervous. His breathing had increased and, flaring the chakra at her fingertips for a quick read, his vital signs were subtly ramping up. He kept darting his eyes back over his shoulder, anxious to see what was going on in the darkness behind him.

Sakura flicked her gaze back out to the fire but was surprised to find the biggest rogue's intimidating glare fixed squarely on her. A little more green chakra seeped out past the her fingertips from the perceived threat, illuminating her face slightly. The man's fist tightened.

"What's _she_ doing," he growled, pointing in her direction.

Her patient's heart rate spiked, but Sakura clamped her hand down on his shoulder to keep him from bolting.

"Almost done," she murmured. She wanted to keep him there until this was all over. He was a good shield in case a fight broke out. And if his fluttering heart rate was any indication, he was well aware of his vulnerability too.

"I wonder what Itachi-san would say," the thin one began, "if he found out she was—" Katsuro cut him off.

"Since you've already taken the liberty," he said, shaking the opened scroll, "alert the rest of the men, and be ready tomorrow. And when you tell him about the _her_," he said, thumbing back at the girl, "make sure you tell him you opened his scroll too. He'll be _very_ interested to know!"

Furious, the big man spit at the ground just in front of Katsuro's feet. "You're nothing special," he sneered.

But his lanky companion thought otherwise. He backed away as if a fuse had been lit.

The firelight cast strange shadows across Katsuro, wavering over his trembling fists and tight shoulders as if strapping him back. The red glow of the flames reflected dangerously in his eyes, rendering them almost inhuman.

"Get out of my sight," Katsuro said, biting off every word, his voice nearly hoarse from restrained fury. The big man must have decided that he'd pushed Katsuro far enough. He laughed meanly and swung around to go. But he shot a scathing look at the kunoichi before he tromped loudly back through the woods.

"You're done," Sakura said flatly to her patient and lifted her hand from her his shoulder. The man nearly tumbled off the log in his hurry to get away from there. He cut a wide swath around Katsuro and the campfire.

Sakura watched the space between the trees where the men disappeared and quietly weighed her options.

She could take advantage of Katsuro's preoccupation and make a break for it now. But if he caught her, he'd probably kill her just out of spite. Or she could press her luck and strike up a conversation with him, and perhaps her sympathy could earn her a little more trust and freedom. Then she could truly slip away undetected.

Sakura made her choice. She dusted her hands and walked to the small fire. Katsuro stood unmoving, staring into the low flames, hands still balled into angry fists.

Sakura silently meditated on what she'd learned. They hated her, naturally, but they seemed to hate him too.

Her stomach growled suddenly, and Sakura raised a hand self-conciously to her stomach. Katsuro snorted at her, but her discomfort seemed to distract him from his present anger. He turned and left her standing at the fire to stow the scroll in his pack.

Sakura thought this was probably as good a time as any to pry for information.

"So…. Are they supposed to be your teammates?"

The only response was the clinking of weapons together in his rucksack.

"Why are they so hard on you?" Still no answer.

She sighed. If he didn't want to talk to her, then maybe she could draw him out another way.

"In my village, the emphasis is on teamwork and partnership for maximum—"

"You were just playing ninja then," he said quietly, still kneeling at his pack. "Now you're in over your head, and you don't even know it."

"What?" she said frowning. That wasn't the answer she was expecting.

"Your village, _Konoha_," he bit off the name, "is fully aware of your capabilities, or _lack_ of them, and have already labeled you a missing nin." He refastened his pack and stood to face her. "You are not worth coming for. And your spot on that inept little team has probably already been filled."

Sakura looked stricken for a moment, then waved him off. He obviously had no idea how a strategic military force worked.

"Don't be ridiculous. There is a protocal for retrieval," she said condescendingly. "My teammate is one of the strongest in our village. I'm sure he and my sensei are on their way right now."

Hands on his hips, Katsuro laughed mirthlessly at her.

"If you were stupid enough to get caught, then make no mistake they will never come for you." He rounded on her, his voice chilling. "They will forget you and leave you to die by our hands. And if your _Sasuke Uchiha_ is so strong, then they would never send him to fetch his irresponsible teammate. He is a tool to be closely guarded by the Leaf and used only for their purposes."

The kunoichi clenched her fist and stepped away from the fire, feeling unreasonably warm.

"You know nothing of my team or of Konoha," she hissed. "They will never give up. They're on the way right now."

Katsuro's only recently cooled anger flared right back up again.

"No! It is _you_ who know nothing about your own village. How they throw away the ones who do not serve their purposes and crush the ones who stand in their way." Dark shadows pooled on his face.

"You think so highly of your team? Well let me enlighten you as to why you, a medic-nin who cannot even watch her own back, were paired with an elite clan member. You were put on that team as the _target_."

He was speaking quietly but he might as well have been yelling. The horrid truth of his words were sinking in, and defiant facade was crumbling.

"You are the weakest one, so you're the one to be taken out first, alerting him so he can escape. You're the one who falls in the trap laid for him. Your life will be extinguished so that your teammate will live. Think your village is so great now? Your duty is to be the sacrifice. You are expendable, replaceable…." He locked on her wide eyes to drive the point home. "_Forgettable_."

"And it's our bad luck that we're stuck with you now."

She blinked away tears and shut him out, whipping her head away toward the fire. Words had left her.

_No, no, it couldn't be true._ She shook her head in mute denial, pressing her lips together to hold back the tears.

Katsuro watched the revelations crash on her, his cooling anger replaced by disgust at his own behavior. She was just a pawn as well. There was no victory here.

Yes, he hated Konoha, he hated what they did and how they treated people like her, crushing those who did not serve their purpose. But he also hated the way he sounded when he was talking to her, brutal and unforgiving, an echo of the other men in his camp.

"I wasn't lying when I said there's been no sign of them," he continued quietly. "Whatever life you had before, it's over. Whatever you did for your village, whatever sacrifices you made...well, it wasn't enough. They're not coming for you."

Katsuro drew a tired breath and ducked inside the tent, leaving her alone by the fire.

It would have been an opportunity to run, but Sakura couldn't move. Her world was collapsing in on itself. Everything he said made perfect sense. The inequity of strength and skill, the way they treated her as the dead weight on the team.

Sakura's tears glinted in the flickering light. Her shoulders dropped. Her whole body seemed to be sinking under the weight of it all. Her captor had finally left her alone, but his implication clear: She wasn't even worth guarding any more.

She had been abandoned, and she knew it now.

A gravelly noise broke through her haze. Katsuro stood beside her with a thin blanket roll in his hand.

"Sleep in there," he said quietly, pointing to the tent. "I'll be out here. We're leaving in the morning."

She wiped her hands down her face and silently went to the tent, feeling more alone than she ever thought was possible. She crawled under the blanket, pulled herself into a ball and wept.

Outside, the fire crackled and hissed. Katsuro put anything he could find into the tiny inferno, trying dispiritedly to drown out the sound of her crying in the darkness.

* * *

_Edited 9/14/12_

**Author's Notes**

Thanks so much for insane amount of activity - visitors and reviews, faves and alerts. It warms my heart and my aching fingers. I wanted to read a N/S story that was a little more drawn out and had a stronger sense of place to it. Couldn't find it, decided to write it - I've since learned this is how most writers start. They can't find the story in their head, obviously, so they in turn write it out! So tell me, am I hitting my mark? Do you feel like it is a real place you could sink into, does the story give you a clear picture of their surroundings? (The K(N)/S characters are still developing, so I'll ask you about them later!) Please review and let me know what you think!

* * *

**Chapter Notes: 6/4**

• "_Katsuro!" a man's voice boomed from the edge of one of the large campaign tents._ — This little bit shows his Naruto side of balking at authority. The man who is giving orders is a captain under Itachi. No one important, but it's mentioned to help illustrate a little of the heirarchy of the group. It will help Sakura understand how the group operates, and what Katsuro's role in it is. More about that in upcoming chapters.

• _"It would have been an opening to run, but Sakura couldn't move. Her world was collapsing in on itself. Everything he said made perfect sense. The inequity of strength and skill, the way they treated her as the dead weight on the team."_ — Sakura has to see her village from his point of view, question it, feel some doubt. It allows her to bond with him in the short term, and forces her to come to some strong decisions about who she supports in the long term. A village and it's policies, for better or for worse, or a rogue who's never lived by anyone's rules but his own.

• _Outside, the fire crackled and hissed. Katsuro put anything he could find into the tiny inferno, trying dispiritedly to drown out the sound of her crying in the darkness._ — when puts anything into the fire. Katsuro will have a hard time with her crying. He hates to hear it, thinks it's weak. Reference to the Zabuza arc where he lashes out at the little kid for crying. (I had thought to tie it in somehow, but now I don't think I will. At any rate, crying still makes him uncomfortable.


	4. Ambush

Chapter 4 - Ambush

Sakura lay in the tent a long time, watching the walls turn from leaden gray to the dingy ash color she had become familiar with by daylight. She had memorized every crooked seam, every dangling thread, every smudge of dirt.

Lifting fingers into the air dejectedly, she examined her peeling, filthy fingernails. Sakura had prided herself on keeping her hands clean, that it was the mark of a good medic. Now she simply didn't care. None of that mattered anymore. Her life before was completely out of reach now. He had made that abundantly clear.

She flopped her hand down on her stomach. Tears slid out of the corners of her eyes down into her hair. Instead of wiping them away, she turned on her side, twisting the blanket with her. She hated that awful musty smell it had. It smelled of, well, someone else. Not her.

Footsteps crackled in the leaves somewhere across the campsite.

And she didn't care about him either, she thought with a sigh. She wasn't moving. Wherever they were going, well they could go without her. She felt as worthless as that decrepit old tent, and they might as well just bury her in it.

Feet padded to a stop outside the tent, dull shadows dimming the light.

"Time to get up. Hey, uh..." Katsuro began cheerfully, but his voice thinned. He was obviously puzzling over something.

"What's your name?" he croaked finally. Sakura rolled her eyes. She could almost picture him scratching his head. His head covering, she amended.

She didn't want to answer him. She squeezed her eyes shut, stayed very still and hoped he would go away.

"Hello in there," he shook the top of the tent a little. "You awake?"

"Go away," was her muffled response.

"Hey, what's your name?" he asked again, undeterred.

Sakura was silent for a long time, weighing her options, before she muttered, "Ino."

"What?" he said and began shaking the top of the tent again. "What did you say your name was?"

"Ino!" she shouted, flipping onto her back and slapping her hands on the blanket. "I said my name is Ino! Now...just...go away, and leave me alone," she sputtered.

Katsuro just laughed at that, which angered her even more, then he jostled the top of the tent one last time.

"Well come on, Ino. It's time for breakfast, and we're not going to miss it today," he said.

She heard him walking away and thought maybe he was going to leave her alone for a while, till his voice lilted back across the campsite, "Come on out or I'm coming in after you." She could hear him laughing in the distance. At least his irritatingly good mood had returned, she thought.

Sakura studied the tent ceiling a little longer, then sat up slowly and pushed the blanket off her legs.

It was petulant and stubborn and stupid, and she knew it, but she didn't want to go anywhere with him. She wanted this nightmare to be over. And she wanted it to be over now.

Sakura scrubbed both hands over her face. She knew it was fantasy to think she even had a choice. She wasn't a hostage, there was no ransom or promise of her return. She was a prisoner, and she had to go with them. Resistance was simply not an option.

Drawing hands up under her hairline, she methodically kneaded the muscles down the back of her neck. She felt tired, black-and-blue tired. Like she'd been in a fight, and she'd lost.

Sakura reached for her boots, slipping them on slowly, one at a time. She didn't want to give up, but she didn't see how she could go on. There was no clear path in front of her, she thought, rubbing grime from the black leather in a futile attempt to bring back it's shine.

But, maybe if she went she could find a way out of this mess, she thought. She straightened her shirt and checked the fasteners on her skirt.

Maybe everything he had said about her team, her home, had been lies. Dirt-smudged hands stilled over an open clasp. It didn't feel like it though. She snapped it closed and wiped away the wet tracks of tears from the corners of her eyes, thinking again that she would just like to bury herself under the musty blanket until the whole world fell away.

Sakura's stomach growled traitorously.

Maybe she should just put one foot in front of the other, she thought. Eat. Then find a way out of this.

The kunoichi pushed the tent flap back slowly to find Katsuro waiting for her. He had returned to the Sand disguise, with the addition of a full travel cloak. The pale fabric bunched around his neck and fell fluidly down his back, just skimming over the ground as he walked toward her.

"C'mon," he said cheerfully. "If we don't hurry, then we won't get to eat today either." He pulled out the leather bindings, and she grudgingly pushed her hands out in front of her. Her warden wrapped them together then looked up into her face, "And I'm sure your starving."

Katsuro's brown eyes peered at her earnestly through his face coverings, almost apologetically, and Sakura wasn't sure if she imagined it. But if it was an apology, then it was the only sign of any lingering guilt on his part about last night's harsh words.

Breaking down his camp was the work of a moment. He left behind most of his things for someone else to gather, and shrugged on a light travel pack under his cloak, strapping the thin blanket roll to the bottom.

Within minutes they were on their way back to main camp, but this time Sakura noticed they passed through much more woodland to get there. Only when they arrived at the wall of campaign tents and the large dusty fire circle did she realize that all the other small shabby tents were gone.

"Where did all the-" she said, looking around at the deserted woods and most noteably the lack of lazing men at the campfire. But Katsuro cut her off, nudging a spare bowl of lumpy gray food into her hands.

"Everyone's gone already. They're moving this camp. It happens from time to time. In a few hours this will all be underwater," he said, carelessly flicking his hand at their surroundings.

"But there's no water," she said. Sakura hadn't heard any streams nearby.

"No. Flash flood," he intoned, but offered no other explanation. "Well, eat up!"

He watched her out of the corner of his eye, picking at the food, the gray lumps and the strange meat, until she finally deigned to nibble on some of it. He couldn't help but smile a little at her change in attitude this morning. A few days without food would do that to you, he thought, picking up his own chopsticks.

They ate quickly and in silence. The kunoichi managed to eat about half of what he'd dished out for her.

'Good,' he thought, 'she'll need her strength.' He didn't know when they would get a regular meal again once they left.

Minutes later, they were off, disappearing into the tree line opposite the fire circle. Sakura cast a last look back over her shoulder at the encampment. If she had any hopes of being found, then being on the move was going to make it that much harder. She sighed, watching the sunlit clearing of main camp dissolve behind row upon row of brown and grey trunks.

Trailing behind Katsuro, connected only by that little leather binding, Sakura could not find a single defining mark on the winding route they were taking. The forest was undeniably vast, but her warden seemed sure of himself. Every so often he would turn sharply at a tree or a rock, so she knew they were not as lost as it appeared.

They traveled for what felt like miles, climbing over gnarled roots, hopping across puddling creeks and sliding down leaf-thick slopes.

Finally the ancient trees broke their ranks and allowed for some undergrowth. With the broad forest of the campsite long behind them, the land now rolled under their feet. Thick bushes and large boulders scattered below the old trees slowed their pace, but the kunoichi was on high alert.

The landscape was achingly familiar. Sakura kept watching the forest, looking for an opening between the trees. She could feel that they were near the old road, although she'd not caught sight of it.

Katsuro's eyes were also roving over the woods around them, Sakura noted. She wasn't the only one watching for something.

Tightening his movements, Katsuro made hardly a sound as they moved across the crumbling leaves. Sakura licked her lips and was poised to ask what he was looking for, but a curt hand signal from him silenced all communication. So she resigned herself to following his actions, adopting silence and stealth as well.

Their progress suddenly ground to a halt. Katsuro quietly crouched down behind a boulder, then tugged her down beside him.

"Be alert," he whispered. "We don't want to get killed."

They were very near the road now, though he didn't know if she had seen it. From where they were, it should just be over the next small hill.

Shoulders brushing, he turned his head to study her closely, looking for any signs she might try to run, but she was already acting on what he'd said. Green eyes scanned the woods for anything out of place. He could nearly read their surroundings in her face, eyes darting from tree to tree, sweeping the canopy then the forest floor.

He was pleased she was taking this seriously. He wasn't kidding, either. These men could be brutal, and he didn't want to open either of them up to a "mistake" that could end their lives. He wouldn't put anything past them.

A twig snapped up ahead of them. They turned their heads simultaneously toward the sound.

"That's our sign," he said. Slowly and quietly, they trekked down the back of the hill, moving away from the still hidden road, taking care to stay concealed.

The pair hiked down into a shallow ravine between the two hills. Sakura looked up the steep sides to the bushes arching over the top. The path was flattened and well hidden. 'Good for ambushes,' Sakura thought wryly. If this is here, then the road can't be far away.

A large tree had fallen and pulled one wall of the slope down into the gulch with it, leaving a gap with a wide view of the surrounding area. To continue down the trail, they would have no choice but to scale the log. Katsuro crossed the tree first and stood atop the pile of crumbling earth on the other side of the tree, waiting for her to follow suit.

Sakura flattened her hands on the bark, but didn't move any further. Instead, she shot a glance back over her shoulder and down the length of the tree. Beyond it's grasping airborne roots, Sakura could see the entire woodland valley unfolding. The kunoichi sucked in a shallow breath.

Slips of yellow glimmered through the mottled green and brown landscape. Winding teasingly in and out of view, the old travel road curled around trees and bobbed over the hillocks. Sakura's heart lifted. It was what she had been searching for — the thread that connected her to home.

'I knew it,' she thought triumphantly. If she could get to the road, then she could escape, she could be seen, she could be found. No, she amended, remembering the previous night's despair, that road meant she could find her own way now.

The kunoichi swung her head back, flexed her elbows and prepared to vault over the tree, feeling more alive and hopeful than she had in days. Her mind was just whirring to life with plans when a shadow fell across her fingertips and halted everything.

She raised her head only to find Katsuro's unyielding face just inches from her own. Brown eyes narrowed slightly, and he gave her a long, hard look, almost daring her to try something.

Momentarily surprised at his sudden, threatening closeness, the kunoichi's anger immediately overruled her common sense. She shot a challenging look back for a fraction of a second, before she dipped her head to reorganize her thoughts.

Focusing on her hands, Sakura told herself picking a fight with him would do no good. She needed to keep her cool and find a way to escape. The kunoichi tamped down her anger and slowly swung one leg, then the next, over the tree, not trusting herself to look up again.

They scrambled down the ravine, then hiked back up another one, before stopping below a large rock outcrop. The rest of his group were there, silent and swiftly making what looked to be travel preparations, all dressed in the same pale garb and traveling cloaks.

"Have a seat," Katsuro said, pointing to a nearby spot out of the main pathway. Sakura silently leaned back against one of the large boulders and watched the activity around her. Men came and went with empty rucksacks and weapons. One stopped to apprise her warden of who they'd seen so far traveling on the old road, describing their loads in great detail.

The empty sacks, the weapons, the disguises... They're preparing for an ambush, Sakura realized. She wasn't sure before, but now there could be no doubt that these men were the ones targeting the merchants, the men she'd been assigned to find.

Sakura watched the rogues and thought with chagrin how wrong her team had gotten it. They had been staking out flat land farther down the valley, looking for peasants. Yet these men, looking as authentic as any Sand shinobi she'd ever seen, would never have been suspected of any wrongdoing.

Just then, a low whistle sounded from the top of the outcrop. All were silent, waiting. Sakura didn't know what to expect. But it was quickly followed by another whistle, and all the men relaxed a little. Whoever was passing was not who they wanted.

Another rogue dressed in fatigues came down from the tall boulders.

"Monk," he said, shrugging his shoulders as he passed Katsuro.

He continued walking past the medic-nin, but made sure to kick the ground in front as he strode by, spattering her legs with clumps of black dirt and leaves. He cut a nasty look down at her, making sure she knew it was intentional. Sakura shot him a mean look back, but he was already moving swiftly beyond her.

She returned to her surveillance on Katsuro, who was looking intently at her, brows furrowed. But he shook it off, and quickly finished up his conversation with the other man.

"...next one with a load. We need to get moving," he said.

The man nodded and left, and Katsuro approached her, grabbing the bound leather between her wrists and pulling her to her feet.

"You need to carry your share," he said, pausing to draw out a long piece of tan fabric from a nearby rucksack.

Sakura nearly fell over. A Sand cloak fluttered in front of her, and Katsuro deftly whipped the top of it around her neck, leaning in close to clasp it under her chin.

Her mind reeled. They wanted her to participate in this crime somehow. She'd have none of it.

"Absolutely not—" the kunoichi began, leaning away from him, but he wasn't interested.

"You don't have a choice," he said, and clutched her elbow through the cloak.

Katsuro directed her around to the top of the outcrop with a firm admonishment, "no more talking."

But what seemed like the top was actually just the natural crest of a small hill, sloping gently away from the road. It was the ravine behind them that was deceptively steep.

They dropped down behind a few large boulders, perfectly positioned above a long dip in the trade road. She understood it all now: A merchant would be forced to slow his speed here, and Katsuro's men would descend and block him in. Then they could easily escape with their haul by retreating back into the network of sharp, deep trenches. The rogues would be nearly impossible to track.

Sakura looked across the anonymous forest landscape and shook her head. Her team never had a chance of finding this group.

A jingling sound suddenly rang out from beyond one of the little hills that framed the low section of road.

Katsuro hastily grabbed the bindings again and pulled her down behind the boulder.

Skidding in the dirt on her knees brought momentary pain, but any other thoughts were eclipsed by an entirely different feeling at her wrists. The straps around her forearms bunched and overlapped, and cool air licked at the exposed strips of sweat-moist skin.

He had unwittingly loosened her bindings.

Sakura's heart banged in her chest at the realization. She felt light as air. This ambush was her moment to break free, she thought. She licked her lips and scanned the area nervously, clutching her fingers to keep them from trembling.

"You ok?" Katsuro interrupted her, looking tensely over her face and at her shaky hands.

"Mmmm," she hummed through her lips, nodding to reinforce it.

'He must think I'm nervous about the ambush,' she thought. She nearly laughed at him, giddy from excitement. He nodded back slowly, still peering at her through the dim light behind the boulder.

A roll of a wagon wheel at the top of the hill drew everyone's full attention. This was what his group had been waiting for. The men around her were focused, tense, drawing weapons of all kinds. Sakura was busy making calculations about who would be going where, how much time she would have, and which way she would run, waiting breathlessly for her opening.

The donkey, perhaps sensing trouble, stamped and pulled against his harness, refusing at first to enter the threatening low spot in the road. But the driver urged the animal to follow course, and soon enough the cart was lurching down the hill and into position.

She heard a male voice from somewhere down the row of hunched men call out, "Heavy load. Full wagon, look how it's swaying. This is the one."

"Shit," Katsuro uttered next to her. "No!" he called to the men desperately, but he was too late to be heard.

"Let's go!" barked a few others in the group, drowning out Katsuro's voice. Rallied by the cries, the men tore off down the bank, weapons at the ready, circling around the unsuspecting travelers like a pack of wolves. The ambush was in full swing.

Sakura couldn't find the source of Katsuro's alarm until a tiny movement drew her eyes immediately to the front of the cart. Pale skin flashed from under the edge of the tarp covering the wagon bed. A little hand, followed by another, grasped at the two drivers, then retreated back to the safety of their hiding spot.

Two little heads popped out this time, arms reaching for the man and woman. They quickly disappeared again upon hearing the commotion. Katsuro must have seen them somehow while the rest of the men were sizing up the load.

Sakura's throat went dry. These weren't wealthy merchants, this was a family.

Katsuro wrapped his hand like a vice around the medic's wrist and bolted out from their hiding spot to intercede, hauling her down the slope with him.

Jumping quickly from the cart, the father brandished a small knife and managed to threaten the rogues away from the back of the wagon. But it wasn't enough. The men who were skulking towards the front quickly switched directions and overpowered him, ripping the blade from his hand and forcing it to his neck.

The mother bore terrible witness to the men turning away from the cart to attack her husband. Her screams did not alert him quick enough, and the sight of him being threatened drew her out as well. In near hysteria she made to climb from the seat, begging them to desist, only to lose her footing and tumble into the road.

The scene unfolding before Katsuro was going from bad to worse. He had been hurrying toward the wagon, hoping he could keep the rest of the family contained while he retrieved the husband, but his hostage was dragging on him, slowing him down.

"Damn it," Katsuro said, eyes never leaving the father. The biggest rogue, always eager for a fight, was rounding on the man, shouting threats and flashing another kunai menacingly in his face. Katsuro knew he had to get to there before they killed him.

As he passed the wagon, moving swiftly to the action, Sakura pulled against her warden, stooping to extend her elbow down to the mother, reflexively trying to keep her calm. The woman clutched her arm, panic stricken, desperate to stand and get to her husband.

Frustrated with her delay, Katsuro slid his hand fluidly from the medic-nin's wrist to the bindings and gave a hard jerk, hellbent on pulling the girl away from the crying wife.

But it all unraveled in his hand.

The leather binding whipped around, free of it's prisoner, and the wife tumbled into Katsuro. The woman clung to him now, trying to pull herself up.

Katsuro could scarcely believe what was happening. He tried to push the woman off, frustratedly looking for the girl who just vanished into thin air. But the wife wouldn't release him, instead pulling on his arm in desperation, sobbing for them to spare her husband.

Sakura felt the binding slip off her arms in a single motion and acted immediately. This was the opening she had been waiting for.

Two steps ahead of her captor, she darted under the cart. Sakura had already decided to use the melee to her advantage. She would leap from the other side of the wagon into the trees. As soon as she could, she'd alert others in the area to their troubles, she told herself.

Sakura flattened herself against front corner of the cart, opposite where she'd left Katsuro standing.

"Get off of me!" she heard the rogue nin yell from beyond the wagon, and she knew this was it. The kunoichi turned for a last furtive glance down the cart and bent her knees to launch, when the edge of the tarp tipped up beside her.

A large pair of eyes peered out from the darkness. Her eyes widened as well.

'Oh no,' she thought. The children. What was she thinking? She couldn't leave, she couldn't turn her back on them.

Sakura heard the wife scream again. She tightened her fist. This was all her fault.

This poor family was attacked because the rogues were moving her.

"I'm scared," came a voice from the darkness.

She could hear scuffling, someone was approaching. She was running out of time. She had to do something...

The adrenaline that had coursed through her veins at the thought of her own escape now fueled another plan. She pushed back the tarp, shoved her arms down into the darkness and scooped up the two children, who looked all of two and four years old. Both clung instinctively to her arms as she whirled away from the cart. If she was going to run, the kunoichi decided, she was taking them with her.

Settling a child at each hip, Sakura dashed to the front of the wagon. Trying to stay ahead of the approaching footsteps, she cut close to the donkey's head, giving it's dangling reins a good shake as she passed, intentionally trying to spook it. He reared a little and stamped backwards, rocking the wagon and forcing anyone behind her to avoid the wobbling cart.

Now in the open, she sprinted toward the other hill and didn't look back. The cloak whipped mercilessly around her boots.

"Go!" the father's voice rang out through the air. "Take the children! Run!"

The father's outcry silenced the threatening rogues momentarily until they realized she was escaping, then they unleashed an onslaught of curses at her. But Katsuro's voice carried over all of it.

"Stop!" he boomed up to her from beside the wagon. "You're not going anywhere!"

She hesitated at the crest of the hill. Beyond her, the road twisted relentlessly through the woods, flat and empty. It slipped around a tree and disappeared.

Behind her somewhere the mother sobbed. The children wailed miserably at either shoulder.

"Don't move!" Katsuro yelled.

'This isn't going to work,' she thought. She couldn't run and be certain to get away now, and leaving the mother and father behind was sure to be a death sentence for them.

Little hands knotted in the kunoichi's cloak and feet dug in to her ribs. Squirming out of her arms, the children reached back, bawling for the parents.

Sakura shut her eyes. Someone was going to suffer here. Either the parents or the children, or both. All because of her.

Itachi's words to her captor suddenly came to mind: She was the priority. Sakura opened her eyes.

She knew she was more important to them than any pathetic ambush attempt.

No, she couldn't run, she thought, but she wasn't just going to hand them over. Not when she still had something to bargain with.

Pulling the children around in front of her, shielding them with her body, she slid the them down one at a time to the ground.

"Don't move," she said. They clung to each other.

Sakura pivoted quickly on the spot to face her captor, letting the cloak billow into the space between herself and the children, effectively shielding them from the violence. Hands on her hips, hair whipping around her face, the kunoichi drew in a breath and tried to look as formidable as she could. She frowned down at her warden, then shifted her gaze to survey the scene through calculating eyes.

The men looked at her, their cold intent plain on their faces. The biggest man dropped the knife from the father's throat to watch Sakura, and the mother pulled against her captor to clutch at her husband.

Katsuro, who had been steadily stalking towards her, stopped at the base of the little hill and looked up, waiting to see what she would do.

"Is this who you target? Families?" she yelled at all of them finally, starting her plan in motion. "If you'd just asked, they'd have given you everything," she taunted them.

Her warden took another step, but Sakura responded with a movement of her own. She bent her knees slightly, widened her stance, tightened her hands into fists at her sides, and leveled her gaze directly at Katsuro. The message was clear, she was ready to fight.

The kunoichi lowered her voice and said warningly to him, "I won't let you touch them."

"Get back down here," he matched her tone, annunciating every word in anger. Sakura sized him up and shook her head at him slowly. She meant to offer an alternative, but the rest of the rogues had other plans.

Intending to break the standoff by force and punish the girl for her insubordination, the burly man shoved the wife to the ground and replaced the kunai at the husband's throat.

"He'll pay for your insolence," the rogue snarled at the medic. He fisted a hand in the father's hair and tightened his grip on the weapon.

"Just let them go," the father pleaded desperately, but his voice thinned. The blade at his throat pressed deeper, this time drawing a trickle of blood. The mother sobbed for them to release him.

"Stop it," Katsuro yelled back at them, anger flaring out now at his own men. "Leave those two alone."

But his teammates were in full rebellion. And the biggest rogue saw this as his opportunity to take down Katsuro.

"If you can't handle her," he yelled, nodding at the troublesome girl atop the hill, "then what makes you think you can handle anything else, little runt."

Caught in the middle, Katsuro was forced to deal with what was clearly the more volatile of the two problems.

As he turned his back on her, Sakura could see her warden had balled his hands into tight fists at his sides. She wasn't sure if Katsuro could resist the big man's baiting another time. And a brawl among the thieves was likely to result in innocent bloodshed.

The kunoichi knew she had to get control of this situation fast.

"Enough!" she yelled over all of them, hoping somehow her voice would carry. It did the trick, the men stopped their tirade.

"Let them pass unharmed, and I'll come willingly," she said. Katsuro snapped back to her, eyes wide in furious disbelief. The rest of the men scoffed. "Get what you want out of the cart, then send it down the road. Let the mother and father go, then—"

"You for them?" Katsuro cut her off. "Do you think we're bargaining here?" he roared, and advanced on her again. He seemed to be changing his mind, deciding to overpower her first, then deal the rest of the men.

Sakura bit her lip, pushed away her fear at his almost tangible intimidation, and told herself not to give up now. Behind her the children whimpered softly. If she were captured again then all her leveraging power would be gone. She took all the courage she had and threw it back at him.

"What's more important? They're stomachs or your mission?" she yelled back, pointing at Katsuro to emphasize that it was, in fact, 'his mission,' using the overheard conversation with Itachi against him. Katsuro stopped again.

Sakura knew which one was the most important cargo here, and it wasn't the family or any of their goods.

"Me for them," she confirmed Katsuro's words. The kunoichi looked back up to the men menacing over the husband and wife. "Let them go," she said, nodding at the parents.

Katsuro still had not moved from his spot. Instead he just watched her, eyes narrowed angrily.

Sakura looked back to him, took a breath, and waited. She waited for him to either come after her or give a sign he would accept her terms. She didn't know what he would do, but she hoped this would work. She was out of options.

A quick glance showed her the men in the group were also waiting. Even after their minor power struggle, Katsuro still seemed to have the authority over these rogues, Sakura thought.

Never taking his eyes from the kunoichi, Katsuro barked out new orders to the rest of the men.

"Get what you want," he called out. He paused before grudgingly adding, "Then let them go."

The men didn't act immediately on what he said, a few of them cutting mean glances at the kunoichi, the burly man pitching the husband forward to land near the wife, but shortly they were all stripping the cart of food and valuables.

Katsuro glared at her, but didn't move. Neither did she. It was stupidity on her part, he thought, trading her life for theirs. He watched her face, green eyes scouring every bit of movement, silently nodding to what he could only assume were the parents. Her pink hair fanned out a little in the warm midday breeze and she had slightly relaxed her fighting stance. The cloak was moving enough to allow little glimpses of the frightened children behind her.

She was right about one thing, Katsuro thought, running his fingers along his palms. She was more important than this misguided ambush attempt. And now she had them in a bind. He was counting on her word, but if she'd worked through all her options, then she knew there was no way to escape now.

'Damn her,' he thought. 'She's more trouble than she is worth.'

Katsuro slipped a hand under his cloak and searched for something in his pocket. Finally, his fist tightened around the leather strap. It creaked softly beneath his cloak, held at the ready if she had any thoughts of escaping. With the family out of the way, Katsuro knew he could catch her easily.

But at the top of the hill, the girl still stood unmoving, silently observing it all. Katsuro shook his head softly at the idea that she had single-handedly undone his plans. But he would never have given in to her bargaining if it had not suited him so well. If he can make her yield to force, he thought, the next few days will be much easier.

"Better to yield to force than force to yield," Itachi's platitude floated through his mind. It applied to Itachi's interrogation strategy, that it was easier to make someone give up information with a threat, while someone who is set against revealing secrets must be broken. But Katsuro was finding it handy here too: If he could make this one sacrifice and get her to go along with them out of obligation, then life for all of them would be easier.

It was a gamble, but as he watched her eyes dart over the scene, circling back to making sure he hadn't moved again, Katsuro had a feeling that the ridiculous Konoha sense of honor would play into his hands. Better to push a willing hostage up the mountain than drag a fighting prisoner, he thought.

The men finished emptying the cart of food and small items, then one called up to Katsuro, "Alright, here they come." The parents hurried toward the cart, while the ambushers disappeared back into the woods with their belongings.

"Don't move," Katsuro said to the medic firmly. "They'll come to you." Sakura said nothing.

The father fumbled for the reins, intending to walk up the hill alongside the wagon, but Katsuro stopped them.

"Get in. She'll hand the children to you," he said, then turned back to watch the kunoichi. He wanted to make sure there were no more opportunities to escape.

The parents complied wordlessly, and the cart rolled slowly toward Sakura.

Katsuro hadn't moved forward again, but Sakura didn't trust him. She had no intention of leaving, but she didn't want him to go back on his word. She watched him closely as the wagon rolled up the hill, mirroring his fierce expression with one of her own, only breaking off to pass the children over. She loaded them quickly into the cart glancing down at him warily, relieved to see that he still stood in the same manner.

The mother grasped the children to her chest, kissing them and sobbing thank yous to the brave girl through their feathery hair.

"I'm so sorry," the father said, his voice thick with emotion.

"It's ok," Sakura reassured briskly, stepping back from the cart.

"C-can you tell me your name?" the father whispered.

The kunoichi involuntarily glanced at Katsuro. He knew exactly what had transpired and shook his head slowly, never breaking his threatening glare. Her warden took a step closer, hand moving surreptitiously to something hidden in his cloak.

'They need to get out of here,' she thought.

She shook her head quickly then said, loud enough for Katsuro to hear, "I'll be fine, but you have to hurry. Don't look back. Just go." She gave them a tight smile, and hoped it was enough to convince them to leave.

The father thanked her again through tears, and the cart rumbled quickly off.

She watched the old road till they were at a safe distance, finally rounding behind a far tree and disappearing. Silence settled thickly back over the forest, a few puffs of dust still hanging in the air the only sign of a disturbance now.

Grinding the road under her feet, Sakura turned her back on the view, her escape route, and looked down at Katsuro.

He was standing perfectly still, just a few paces away, waiting.

'Me for them,' she thought. She pushed her lips together. 'I failed my team, but I saved their lives, hopefully.' There would be repercussions, to be sure, but now they were hers to bear. No one else would suffer on her account. They would live.

She trained her eyes on the ground, forced herself to put one foot in front of the other, and silently closed the gap between herself and her warden.

Katsuro shifted his stance in anticipation, letting the cloak casually fall away from his outstretched arm. He slowly turned his fist, and the long leather strap dangled out of his hand. The kunoichi swallowed hard. The ends of it bounced merrily at the edge of her vision.

'Me for them,' she thought again, refusing to be intimidated. She was a ninja, after all, and it was her duty. But in that dire moment when she could have escaped and saved herself, she realized she was the only one who could save the family. She traded her life for theirs, and did so without hesitation.

So there, on a barren road, filthy and worn, with no weapon and no hope of rescue, Sakura felt like a real kunoichi for the first time.

She understood the feeling that she could never quite grasp. It wasn't in a hair cut or an attitude, it was in the sacrifice. That was the silent mark of a ninja, she thought. The willingness to do whatever it takes to save a life, to protect those who can't protect themselves. Knowing that she alone could make the difference. She wanted to live by that, never forget that feeling, never be someone else's dead weight again.

'Me for them,' she affirmed to herself one last time. Yes, she would accept with that.

She closed her eyes, put out her hands in front of her and waited.

But her gesture to show she was holding up her end of the bargain wasn't enough to placate Katsuro. Instead he wrenched one arm, then the other behind her and bound both ruthlessly tight. Sakura bit her lip to keep from crying out, the pain bringing tears to her eyes.

He jerked the leather ties once to make sure she wouldn't get free again. Satisfied, he gave a hard push between her shoulder blades to start her moving.

"Let's get going," he called out to the rest of the men when they reached the tree line.

"No need in being stealthy now," he said, snapping dry branches as he stomped back into the forest. "If Konoha wasn't onto us before, they will be after this mess."

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A/N: Thanks so much for all the good feedback. KungFuTruffle, yes the third teammate will be revealed, and I agree with you about Sasuke, he needs a good paddlin'! The chapters ahead will reveal lots more about what happened in his life. NannyKiwiGurl, lol'd at your review! The next chapter has lots of good interaction in it, so you'll be able to see more of Naruto's good qualities peeking through - not just his hot temper! Untold62 and all the rest, thanks for your kind words! It mean so much!

Please read and review, it keeps me going!

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**Chapter Notes: 6/4**

• Katsuro wakes up happy, eager to head out. Just like another ninja we all know.

• Sakura teary in the mornings and in the evenings. I want her to come apart in her downtime, but have to put herself back together to make it through the day. It also compartmentalizes her fears. If she has a task she can focus on it. But when she has free time, the fears are overwhelming.

• Info about hiding the camp under a freak flood - Sakura will be able to take this info back to Konoha later on. Superfluous details now will help Sakura later on when she has to explain what happened to the ANBU.

• working together a little bit when they are near the ravine and Katsuro tells her to be alert. It foreshadows their teamwork to come, and it introduces Katsuro to the pleasant feeling of having a teammate. It's small, but it's the lays the groundwork for what's to come.

• when Sakura gets a glimpse of the road the first time, I've described it in terms of the silk ribbon, yellow and curling, and in keeping with the happy feeling it gives her upon seeing it. This description will contrast sharply with her last glimpse of it at the end of this chapter.

• man kicking dirt at her - obvious foreshadowing, of both the man's intentions and Katsuro's awareness of it. These will play out in chapters to come.

• _"She hesitated at the crest of the hill. Beyond her, the road twisted relentlessly through the woods, flat and empty. It slipped around a tree and disappeared."_ - Second description of the road. Situation has changed, Sakura has to make a choice and not travel down her escape route. Same place can look very different in a different light. She can't take it. Thought about the road as a ribbon slipping away from her. I wanted to convey the loneliness, emptiness she felt at that moment, knowing it was rolling away without her.


	5. The Climb

Chapter 5 - The Climb

Pink hair flipping suddenly into her eyes, the kunoichi crashed forward onto her knees with a sickening crack. She had been channeling chakra to soften her falls, but this one caught her by surprise.

The moss-covered rocks were deceptively slippery, and Sakura had lost count of how many spills she'd taken. She'd remember this one though, she thought wryly.

Ignoring the burn searing up the outside of her legs, Sakura rocked at the waist and pushed hard with her thighs to leverage herself to standing. Her captor waited behind her, silently minding the leather strap that rendered her arms useless. Grit pattered down onto the dry leaves as she stood, but some of it stayed embedded in her torn, oozing skin.

She didn't know how much more of this she could take.

Scattered ahead of her on the mountainside, the group of rogues picked their way up the steep terrain. They were moving steadily across the unending slant of huge boulders and old trees to some unknown destination, so Sakura knew she must go on too.

A quiet cough rattled the air behind her, interrupting her respite. Sakura narrowed her eyes. The little noise meant her warden was ready to continue. With a sigh, she shook the last wisps of hair from her face and gingerly began again. It had been like this all afternoon.

Upon leaving the roadside, the group and their prisoner traveled swiftly over the rolling woodlands, until the canopy of leaves grew quite dense and the undergrowth fell away completely. The landscape looked similar to the ancient forest she had been held in, all twisted roots and unyielding rocks. And though Sakura knew they were not returning to the encampment, there were no clues as to where they were heading. She had frustratingly lost all sense of direction in the diffuse light.

They trekked in silence, moving nearly single file through the pathless bottoms. Around them, grey tree trunks shot up like pillars from the ground. Leaves crunched under foot, and the long cloaks, excellent for repelling sand in other climates, only snagged on the branch-littered floor.

A familiar rustle and snap echoed in the silence. It reminded her that the other men had free will to take off their cloaks. Blocking out the thought, Sakura wiggled her fingers behind her back, trying to catch some of the silky fabric and stave off the numbness that was slowly setting in. The only thing she managed to grasp was the length of binding that connected her to the man behind her.

Concentrating on her hands, Sakura didn't quite clear a leaf-covered stone as she stepped. It caught her toe, and she stumbled forward.

"Pay attention," her warden said flatly, gently tugging the leather strap from her fingers.

At length, a low knocking sound filtered through the dim woods. It was undefinable, and seemed to come from everywhere at once. Sakura thought they might be nearing their destination, and watched her surroundings for an encampment, but one never appeared.

They travelled on, the thrumming sound weaving in and out of the trees around them.

Sakura had despaired of ever finding it's source when finally, hiking out of a root-lined trench, a sudden, dull roar filled the space in front of them. Their path had led them to deep, moss-lined stream.

A narrowing channel combined with a few large stones sunk in the bed forced the water to eddy and swirl loudly. It was the occasional sound of rushing waters that drifted through the trees, not telltale noises from a hidden camp.

Smooth boulders jutted out from the green banks, and the kunoichi thought they might stop for a rest or for water. But the men barely acknowledged the break in the monotonous landscape, simply turning and walking beside it, against the flow of the current.

Sakura tipped her head out of the line, looking upstream, and tried to intuit a destination, but there were no signs of human habitation anywhere. The creek cut deeply through grey rocks, and more often than not, it disappeared completely under the shadow of it's banks. Only the occasional flash of white froth along the edge delineated water from stone.

But it's hollow, lonely sound stayed with them constantly now.

The terrain rose steadily as they hiked. Sakura tried to find shadows to determine a time of day, but barely any direct sunlight trickled down to the forest floor.

Their path beside the stream finally terminated at steep, rocky waterfall. That sound was unmistakeable, and the roar of splashing water was nearly deafening by the time they were upon it.

The water-slicked rocks on either side of the falls made Sakura feel downright queasy, and she looked back at her captor wondering how he expected her to scale it without killing them both.

He gave a quick nod toward the rogues in front who were already breaking away from the stream. Apparently there was a safer, secondary route somewhere down the outcrop. She understood, and they quickly fell in step behind the rest of the men.

It was slower going, but eventually they cleared the last boulder and returned to the placid waters upstream of the roaring falls. Sakura was unprepared for the dramatic view hidden above the sluice.

The land from that point rose up and up, so steep in some places the kunoichi had to tip her face skyward just to see the edge. In front of her stood a massive ridgeline, and they were at the very foot of it.

Sakura peered through a gap in the canopy. A thick white cloud had just crested the ridge, and it looked as if it was snagged on the mountain itself.

Around her the sun streaked through the trees, and she was surprised to find it was not so late in the day as she had thought. Sakura understood now why the woods had been so dim: They were in the shadow of that tremendous mountain. She took a breath and relished the view. She was thankful to be out of the dark woods.

"Don't stop," Katsuro said behind her. It had been the first she'd heard his voice in hours, and she wondered if the long walk had cooled his temper any. His voice betrayed no emotion, so she couldn't tell.

Thinking it couldn't be much farther, not with how much they'd traveled already, Sakura crossed the lapping water and pushed her foot down on a wobbling boulder, eager to begin her trek up the mountainside.

But now, in the streaked blue shadows of late afternoon, with no end in sight to the uphill ordeal, Sakura reflected back on that dark valley and it's lonely, winding stream with a little more kindness.

Her hair stuck irritatingly to the sweaty skin at her neck. The cloak was pinned beneath her bound arms, cooking her lower back with the extra layers of fabric, but in a cruel twist her hands were cold and numb. The parts of her arms she could feel were painfully swollen, and she was fairly sure a section of pinched skin near her elbow had worn into a nasty blister. Any movement hurt now.

Sakura tiredly looked up the slope, wondering how much further their destination could be, when she caught the edge of the cloak on her boot and stumbled. She thought she'd caught herself, but the rock she was pushing her weight on toppled forward precariously. The kunoichi skidded hard on both knees to stop herself from tumbling head-first off the boulder.

Crying out, she hunched her shoulders and tried to smother the pain. A few deep breaths later, and she thought she might be able to grind back onto her legs to stand.

But this time, Katsuro helped her back to her feet.

"Get up," he said quietly, hands at her shoulders. "We've still got a long way to go."

She struggled up, bits of leaves and wet moss sticking to the fresh scrapes at her knees.

Scattered up the mountainside, the rest of the group came to a halt too.

"You know," she said in exasperation, "if you tie my hands in front I won't fall as much."

Brown eyes studied her tired face as he silently weighed the safety of her request against how much time they were losing in this punishing march.

She was pale and sweaty, definitely worn out, but all he needed was a single glance to see that her determination was undiminished. He wouldn't underestimate her again. The kunoichi probably still had some fight left in her, he thought. But if she had other ideas, it didn't matter.

'She can't sabotage anything up here,' he thought wryly.

Above them, Katsuro could hear the men speaking to one another, repeating what she'd said.

Snickers floated down the mountainside.

"Hey, why don't you let me take her for a while, since you can't control her," the big one called down to Katsuro. "Next she'll be asking you to carry her!" Several others laughed as well. It roiled him with fresh anger.

"Keep going," he yelled back. "We need to make it by nightfall."

The rogues were already turning to go before he'd finished his command, leaving the pair to find their own way on the crumbling slope.

Katsuro turned to the girl, unwinding the strap from her wrists. She pulled her arms around, flexed her elbows, and tried not to look at the angry red marks marring her arms and hands. The skin had puffed around the strap lines, and her fingertips were nearly purple. He tried to keep from cringing, and looked up to see how she how she was faring.

Her face was taut, eyes narrowed, mouth drawn. She bit her lip at some sharp pain, but continued to wiggle her stiff fingers free of the bindings in order to better inspect her injuries.

The girl brushed a hand up the inside of her arm, following a dry track of blood.

'Is she bleeding?' he thought with some measure of surprise.

Turning her arm fully revealed a mark just below the elbow where the strap had rubbed her skin raw. The exposed area, an arc the same width as the leather, glistened red and looked extremely painful, but it seemed to have ceased it's bleeding.

She sighed softly, dropped her arms, closed her eyes again and resumed a methodical open and close of her hands. The swelling was slowly ebbing, and her fingers were returning to their normal color.

Katsuro removed his cloak, shoving it carelessly into his rucksack.

"Do you want to take off your..." he asked, pointing to her neck. She nodded, but he was already reaching to unclasp it before her hands stirred at her sides. He slipped it off smoothly, moving as efficiently as he had that morning when he fastened it on her. The kunoichi's shoulders drooped. Perhaps she realized, as he had already, that her fingers would not yet be able to perform that simple task.

"Your knees," he said, nodding down to the debris sticking to her legs, before shoving her cloak into the bag too.

Frowning, the kunoichi carefully brushed the leaves and dirt away from the torn skin. She straightened and, with another wistful breath, pushed her arms forward expectantly.

Katsuro said nothing and set to wrapping her hands again, though not as tight. Watching her face, he could tell the pain was even more intense than before. She bit her lip and focused on the woods, eyes shining with unshed tears.

Angry welts crisscrossed her pale skin. It was a sharp contrast to his own hands, rough and calloused, now winding the strap back around her wrists. He ignored the twinge of guilt at his temper earlier that resulted in the too-tight bonds, but made sure not to wrap the leather so high up her arms this time.

'She's strong, there was no denying that,' he thought. Stronger than most of the jackals he was used to being around.

He tucked the rest of the leather into the gap between her wrists, and pointed for her to continue untethered ahead of him. If she was surprised, he didn't look up to catch the expression flicker across her face.

They immediately picked up the pace, the kunoichi proving much more agile on the unstable rocks. But Katsuro was only distantly aware of that, too.

He was busy meditating on her situation. That soft, feminine outtake of breath was what set it off, reminding him that she was, in fact, still a girl — and a Konoha ninja at that. He had little experience with either, he thought.

This pink-haired contradiction, this kunoichi, abducted then abandoned, was hiking up a mountainside with hardly a complaint, after going without food, healing a few dozen shinobi, withstanding Itachi's intimidating presence and thwarting their ambush.

Katsuro shook his head at the thought.

Fixing his eyes on the black boots climbing steadily in front of him, Katsuro tried to find someone in his history that matched up to those same strong, infuriating qualities. Was it bravery or stupidity she exhibited? He sighed. He just didn't know. Working to keep up with the girl, Katsuro entertained himself by mulling over er confounding actions.

Around them, the forest fell into dusky silence, and their burst of energy eventually began to wane.

Sakura thought it was because she was tired, but the rocks around her seemed to be increasing in size. Large round boulders were replacing the smaller crumbling ones they had stumbled over all afternoon. Some were grey and half buried under centuries of moss, while others still retained their yellow and brown striations, with very little debris.

And a few had unusually sharp angles to them, as if hewed from the mountain itself. She wondered about those, but stuck to climbing over the moss-covered rocks just to be safe.

By the time the shadows were melting together into grey pools behind the darkening trees, the shapes of the boulders no longer held any interest for Sakura. She'd be happy if she never saw another one again.

They were both feeling the effects of a full day of grueling travel, and Katsuro knew it was far from over.

Stubbing his toe for the third time and sick of hearing his own voice in his head, Katsuro decided to poke at his hostage instead. He knew it was against his better judgement, but he wanted to find out more about her, why she stuck up for that family back on the trade road. Just remembering it irritated him.

"We weren't going to kill them," Katsuro blurted out, his voice sending a bird flying from a nearby tree. It drew their attention for a moment, but he continued. "The family. We would have let them go."

He didn't get a response. Not even a movement. He would have thought she didn't hear him if they were anywhere else but an empty mountainside.

"You seem to think otherwise?" he called up to her after a few moments, watching her back for any sign of acknowledgement.

The kunoichi still didn't answer him. She didn't think there was anything she could say except that she heartily disagreed. He had lost control of everything and nearly cost those poor people their lives. He shouldn't speak for his teammates.

'No good would come of sharing that opinion,' she thought.

But a few paces behind her, Katsuro wasn't giving up. If she wouldn't answer his questions, then maybe he could anger her enough to talk. She should be happy, he didn't have to speak to her at all, he thought, grinding his foot down onto the next rock.

"Your freedom was never an option," he called up to her testily.

Sakura sighed. He wasn't going to let this go. She dug her elbows into an unusually large moss-covered rock and attempted to pull herself up onto it. But the moss was slippery under her boots, and she couldn't get a solid footing.

"I wasn't interested in my freedom," she said finally. "I was interested in their safety." She had slipped back down, but wasn't giving up. She leaned on her elbows and tried again.

Still a few boulders behind her, Katsuro shook his head, not bothering to look up.

"You value you're life so little that you trade it for people you don't even know? People who were foolish enough to come into these woods unprotected?" he said.

She didn't answer him.

"You are a ninja aren't you?" he said angrily. He knew she was. No civilian would dream of doing what she did, nor would any of the shinobis he knew. He kicked a cluster of leaves off the top of the boulder.

"Well, what a waste," he said. "Everything you've trained for, at your little academy, all thrown away."

Sakura had slipped again, and was crouching down to inspect the rock for a toehold.

"I wouldn't expect you to understand," she said, her voice muffled by her hair.

"What?" he snapped, looking up to where she was bent over. He frowned. He thought she was farther ahead.

"I said, I wouldn't expect you to understand," she repeated louder, straightening and kicking away some of the moss with her boot.

He jumped atop the rock behind her, thinking irritably that he knew what was she was going to say next. Arrogant Konoha nin that she was, she would certainly tell him of her noble cause, her proud village-

"They were children, a family, and they didn't deserve such horror in their lives, because of me," she said. She dug her toe into the slot and got ready to try again.

"Because of you?" he scoffed, hands on his hips. He was waiting for it, some high-flown sentiment, some ridiculous ninja creed. In his anger, it didn't even occur to him that their progress had completely halted.

"Yes, because none of this would have happened if you weren't transporting me," she said. She dug her elbows in to the moss, this time using her sore fingers to try to help her hold on, stabilize her as she scrambled up.

"Ahhhhh, so you're self-sacrifice eases your guilt," he said tartly.

"No, I'm-" she began an angry retort, but her boot slipped yet again. The sudden weight on her hurt arms and fingers gave her a jolt, and she released her grip involuntarily on the moss to crash back down onto one leg.

She blew out a low breath. Not nearly as hurt as she was from her previous falls, the kunoichi was still tired of the unsteady terrain.

"I'm sick of falling," she muttered as she slowly rose back up to standing.

Katsuro watched her flip pink hair out of her face for what seemed like the thousandth time that day. Her village affiliation stoked his anger, but it was unfair to pin it all on this girl, and he knew it. As a kunoichi, she must be exceptional, he thought. Most grown men would have given up by now. Seeing her pull herself together, turn and tackle the rock again, lifted him out of his bad mood. He decided to try again as well.

Moving quickly, he leaned down beside her and clasped his hands, giving her a foothold so she could hoist herself up.

"Thanks," she said quietly.

The climbed over the next few rocks in silence, until Katsuro spoke up suddenly.

"You're tough," he said, surprising her a little with his directness.

"I'm a ninja," she replied humorlessly, stretching to make it over a particularly large slab. It was true enough, she thought. She was supposed to be tough.

He snorted. "Yeah... Well if you pull another stunt like the one you did back there, you'll find yourself suspended from a tree each night, miss ninja," he said.

Momentarily confused, Sakura retorted, "What stunt? Do you mean protecting that family?"

She stopped to face her captor, looking hard at the wrapped up face she hated.

"Yes," he said, pointing to the rock ahead of them. "Don't stop."

"That's what I'm trained to do," she said, grasping a textbook answer. Behind her, Katsuro just rolled his eyes. But he could tell she had more to say, so he did his best to keep his mouth shut. They continued climbing over some smaller boulders.

"The big man," she continued, "you know, the one that's got it out for you," she emphasized, "you couldn't have stopped him in time. He was going to kill the father, I'm sure of it."

She cleared her throat, trying to shake the feeling that she'd screwed up again. No, she told herself. She'd fixed it. They were all ok now.

"I decided I'd do anything to keep that from happening," she finished quietly.

Katsuro narrowed his eyes. "You mean, once you got to the top of the hill and saw there was no way to escape?" he said.

Sakura could see where he was going with this, pointing out that saving the family was an afterthought. That she had been more concerned about herself instead of them.

"No," she said, trying not to snap. "I saw the children in the cart, they were terrified. I decided then that if I couldn't figure a way out for them, that I'd bargain with you."

"And what made you think we'd go along with you?" he asked.

"I knew _you_ didn't want them to get hurt either," she said. "You saw they were a family before anyone else did, and even tried to stop the the rest of men from attacking."

He blinked, remembering the cold fear that he would watch the man be slaughtered before his eyes. In his anger at her, he been able to ignore how close he'd come to losing all control. Then those bastards would really have triumphed over him, he thought angrily.

"For whatever purpose, you need me," she said with a sigh. "So, I traded my life for theirs." She shrugged, adding softly, "it wasn't a hard choice to make."

But something had changed. He could hear it in her voice. Her determination had slipped a little.

"If I'm going to die out here anyway," she said, pausing to cast wayward glance down the unforgiving mountainside, "I may as well make it worth something."

The kunoichi turned back to look at him. She knew she was still bargaining. He held her future in his hands, and she was hoping that her honesty would persuade him to shed a little light on what her fate was to be. She studied his face, but his dark eyes were inscrutable.

"Come on, let's go," he said quietly. "We're losing light."

The greying forest was silent around the pair. Dark blue seeped over the sky, and even the first bright stars could be seen through the chinks in the leafy canopy. Moving together, Katsuro stopped occasionally to give her a foothold, though she never asked.

He was silent for a long time, considering the pointlessness of her actions. It seemed such a waste of skills to defend those who should never have been that far out in the forest alone in the first place. And here she was ready to fight for them, die for them. Foolish, he thought.

But there was something in the way she talked about him that he couldn't quite dismiss. She believed he would accept her offer to save the family — part of her plan was relying on him. An implied trust. It was an unsettling feeling. Trust wasn't something he had much use for.

Though she hadn't been out to thwart him, like the rest of the men in his group, she was definitely turning out to be a lot of trouble, he thought.

Mired in these thoughts, he reflexively leaned down to hoist her foot up to another rock. He pushed hard, vaulting her up.

But neither could see the sharply-angled top, the surface devoid of moss and layered with dust, nor the ground falling away beneath it. There was no room for error here. And the kunoichi would know none of this until it was nearly too late.

"Katsuro," she called out desperately, reaching back with her bound hands. Snapped out of his thoughts, he scrambled atop the block to catch her by the arm, fleetingly surprised that she even knew his name. There was a steep drop off the other side, and the girl was slipping right for it.

"I've got to untie you," he said, laughing nervously, one hand gripping the edge, one hand clutching her elbow. He swung her toward the safer side of the rock, then slid down behind her.

"Yeah," was all she get out, her mouth dry from panic.

He unwound her bindings and she resumed climbing in front of him, her freedom clouded by the admonition that if she fell even he couldn't save her.

"Aren't you worried I'll try to escape," the kunoichi said as a half-hearted challenge, thinking she couldn't run two steps before she fell down the mountain.

Katsuro chuckled. "There's no where to run to," he said, adding quietly, "but we're getting closer."

Sakura squinted at the dark blue ridge line, the same ridge that they'd been slowly hiking along for the better part of the afternoon, but she couldn't discern anything that would mark the end of their journey.

Evening painted the steep woodland in blues and blacks. Enough starlight filtered down through the canopy to let them make out shapes, but not much else. Under her fingers, the mossy carpet no longer softened the edges of the boulders. Sakura could tell now that these were carved by humans, huge blocks used for some ancient building. They were dusty and precarious, and she slipped quite a few times. Her warden, though he knew the way, was not faring much better.

"Where are we going?" she threw back at him after one exasperating scramble up a steep chunk of stone.

"Up there," he nodded his head at some faint glowing orange orbs seemingly floating in the dark blue expanse above them. Sakura would have thought they were more stars, the lights were so far above what she remembered to be the horizon.

"What?" she cried, "How are we-"

"It gets easier. Just keep going," he said tiredly, ready to be done with this ordeal.

Katsuro moved closer to her, trying to stick to the same rocks she was climbing over in case she fell. She resented it at first but was forced discard those feelings in order to concentrate on the steep inclines and the wobbling slabs, some of which threatened to break free at any moment under the weight of the trespassers.

What was treacherous by day had become terrifying in the blotted darkness of night.

He reached for her to keep her steady, and to her chagrin she found herself reaching for him just as much. She felt a push at her lower back, then a hand on her waist guiding her toward a steadier boulder. Once her feet were safely planted, she turned and reached out for the arm that she knew was close behind her, guiding him to the same destination before moving forward again.

The initial jolt Sakura had experienced at his touch, her mind freezing in fear and her body stiffening, gradually diminished as she leaned more and more on the rogue nin, willing to do anything to prevent herself from tumbling down the mountain. She tried to concentrate more on anticipating his next position on the shifting rocks, moving in unison, and less on the momentary skittishness she felt each time he touched her.

The cool night air at the high elevation cut through her, but to Sakura's surprise, Katsuro was quite warm. She could nearly feel his body heat before her hand grasped his shirt, wrapped around his arm, slid into his hand. Maybe her mind was playing tricks on her in the dark, but the warmth he gave off made her feel a little less alone.

Katsuro relished the breeze, it felt so good on across his skin. It occurred to him that under the veil of darkness he could remove those wretched face coverings and continue on in a fraction more comfort. He hooked the bands around his cheek and pulled them to hang loosely at his neck. The air on his face was immediately refreshing. He hated that the most about dealing with outsiders, having to keep their own appearances hidden.

In front of him, Sakura chafed her arms for a little extra warmth.

"Are you ok? Do you need the cloak?" he asked.

Sakura whipped her head back at him suddenly, trying to find his face in the dark.

"I-I'm fine," she stammered, peering hard into the space where she thought his face might be. "Did you just take your, um, face thing off?"

Katsuro chuckled, "Yeah. Why? Do I sound different?"

"No, not really," Sakura answered thoughtfully. "Just a little more clear."

"Hmm," he answered tiredly because he could think of nothing else to say, and continued moving.

They worked so long together that she forgot completely about her journey, her destination and the fact that her lifeline in the darkness was also her captor. She simply moved her limbs in coordination with him to survive the trek. If his silence was any indication then he felt the same.

Through this tentative truce they worked their way up the mountain, never too far out of the other one's reach.

Finally, daylight a distant memory, Katsuro straddled a particularly large block then reached back to pull Sakura up to the top.

"Ready?" he asked, then pushed her down the exposed flat side.

The kunoichi landed distrustingly on flat gravel, and stood still for a moment to adjust her eyes to this new, apparently stable ground. Katsuro slid down directly behind her and bumped her forward a bit as he stood. He put both hands on her shoulders and pointed her bodily in the direction of a gray ribbon of dirt that ran down between the large boulders.

"That way," he said from over her shoulder.

Sakura took a few tentative steps forward, eyes trying to make out just where she was stepping in the murky darkness. The kunoichi looked down at her feet, crunching the dusty gravel, and followed the path ahead until the end of her visibility. The 'gray ribbon' they were standing on was a narrow footpath. It wound around some of the crumbling stones and up toward a dark hulking structure.

A nudge from Katsuro, and they began slowly moving up the walkway.

Loose blocks thinned out, and what remained were coalescing to form what Sakura assumed was the building all this wreckage belonged to. The tiny path now hugged a wall on one side, and the ground fell away on the other.

Sakura let her palm glide over the wall as she walked, hoping to find something to keep her from toppling into the dark blue void on the other side. Rocks crumbled away from the edge of the path as she passed, giving her pause to wonder how far down they would go before they stopped. A breeze danced up the mountainside and lifted the fringes of her hair.

"Watch your step," Katsuro's voice chuckled from close behind her.

"Yeah," was all she could find for a response, tearing her eyes away from the abyss to find the path again.

The slow, circuitous route finally brought them around the building, the path emptying out into a large, half-circle terrace.

Sakura walked carefully across the old flat stones for a better look at her surroundings. A strong breeze gusted through, but it never completely died down. She guessed they were probably at the ridge top.

She made it, she thought, breathing in the cool air and ignoring the chill. Only then did she wonder where she was.

The building was extraordinarily high, and she guessed it was an ancient temple. Sakura swept her gaze over the dusty terrace. It was obviously built for viewing, and the she could tell it must have been magnificent in it's ancient days, before the trees had grown up and concealed it from the world. Only dappled light from the star-bright sky filtered through the treetops, which looked so close you could touch them.

Her warden entered the patio behind her, but turned toward the doorway opposite the old viewing ledge. Standing at the light-flooded entrance, he called back to her tiredly, "Come on, let's get something to eat."

Sakura turned at his voice and caught his silhouette, black against the golden doorway. He was just adjusting the last of his face coverings over his nose and mouth.

'Damn,' she exhaled, summoning enough energy to curse her bad timing. She silently stepped forward to follow him through the door.

As he entered, voices filtered out of the building, heralding his late arrival.

But Sakura was gripped by a sudden panic. Up until now, the kunoichi had only focused on surviving, not what may be in store for her at the end. At the edge of the pool of light, Sakura could go no further.

The fear that had been displaced by the exhausting trek returned in full force and threatened to consume her. Fear of Itachi, fear of failing her team, fear of never going home... Irrational thoughts that made her want to turn and run. But there was no where to go from here, she thought in despair. This is a prison without walls.

Just inside the doorway, Katsuro turned back and looked for her. He nodded for her to come in, but she stood unmoving.

'Was something wrong,' he thought, tipping his head. Tired brown eyes sought her out, studying her face. Even in the dim light he could see the tenseness in her expression, her own eyes over-wide with fear. It tugged at him. He nodded again, softly beckoning her with his hand.

Sakura watched him and tried to collect her thoughts. She had to keep going, she told herself. She knew there was no other choice. The kunoichi took a breath and followed Katsuro into the main hall.

What was once a grand room, now provided the barest of shelters for this group of rogues. A fire pit in the center of the room cast a flickering orange glow over their long-sought destination.

Immense, crumbling columns ringed the long rectangular room. Sakura could make out a wide walkway, mostly hidden in the darkness behind the row of columns, as well as a few square holes in the walls where windows might have opened onto the once-spectacular view. But those had long since fallen out.

She squinted for a closer look at what she thought was a large black wall on the opposite side of the room, surprised to find that it was, in reality, the world outside. The whole wall had fallen away, and the floor jutted out from underneath the roof, exposed to all the elements.

But what arrested her attention were the group of men in front of her, lazing at the broad, stone-edged fire circle inside the columns. They all looked to the latecomers carelessly, but Sakura could barely conceal her astonishment.

Each face was revealed, save for the man she walked in with.

These men were all older than she was by at least a few years and were all rough looking — more like thugs than ninjas, she thought. It was the same team they'd climbed up the mountain with. They looked just as tired and dirty as she felt.

Sakura's fears abated somewhat as she determined they were the only ones in this ancient compound.

The conversation around the fire died out as the girl came into view. The biggest man, with a head full of choppy brown hair and a round face, simply watched them pass. But his deep-set eyes had a mean glint in the orange half-light. Beside him, a hatchet-faced man leaned close to whisper something, his long, bony fingers concealing his mouth momentarily, before sitting back to continue his scrutiny of the pair.

She narrowed her eyes, mentally noting their features. Those two were not to be trusted, she thought.

The rest of them were the same, brown hair, forgettable faces. Nothing bespoke village ties or a known clan lineage. Some were interested in their arrival, some were rolling over to go back to sleep. But they all seemed to unite when it came to heckling her warden.

"You sure took your time," the big man said, all smiles. A few men laughed around him, and the chatter seemed to pick back up. But Katsuro ignored him.

He paced to the center of a row of columns and stopped. Standing still and looking out at the group, hands on his hips, he shook his head in obvious irritation. Finally, heaving a deep sigh as if being forced to some decision, he turned and pitched his backpack against the wall.

What happened next Sakura was unprepared for: In one motion the man fingered the back of his of the wrappings and pulled it directly off his head — wrappings, head covering and all — as if he were ripping off a hated shirt. He flung the tangled mess to the ground near the pack. Katsuro turned to give the kunoichi a command, but it died on his lips.

Her eyes wide and her expression akin to horror, Sakura stopped in her tracks as she took in his appearance.

Deep brown eyes set off his smooth pale face. Freckles lightly dusted his nose and cheeks above slightly chapped lips. All this was capped with a mop of unruly chestnut hair.

His looks were fair and normal, but what shook her to her core was that he appeared to be all of 15 years old. She was fully expecting another dark-haired adult but not prepared for her captor to be someone... someone like her.

"You're a kid," she uttered, the sensation of being bested by someone her own age like being dipped in cold water. She should have fought harder, she admonished herself.

Brown eyebrows furrowed, he frowned deeply and turned bodily away from her, causing more laughter to ripple around the room.

"You'll sleep here tonight," he called back to her, pointing to where the pack landed behind the columns.

"Where is the food?" he asked the group irritably.

"Remember, you said to grab what we wanted from the cart," said big man said snidely, "Oh yeah, you were busy with the her." Snickers erupted around the man, who was making a big show of inspecting his fingernails.

Their intention was clear: No food was the punishment for the little ruckus at the cart.

"It's not for me, it's for her!" he yelled at them, but his angry tone only elicited another round of laughter. Finally someone took pity on him and threw an orange over. He caught it and held it out for Sakura, but she simply shook her head once, refusing it.

"Where am I supposed to sleep? Is there somewhere for me... I mean, I don't have anything to..." Her voice wavered, then guttered out completely.

What was she thinking or even asking for? He obviously meant for her to sleep on the floor, she was their hostage, right? She was not thinking properly, she thought, rubbing her fist wearily against her temple.

The weight of her ordeal was pulling her under. The survival skills that helped her move through the day where lost to her now. There were no negotiations here: She wasn't a hostage, she amended. She was their prisoner.

And she was also exhausted. The will to fight had left her completely, and she couldn't find the words to ask all the questions she wanted answered. Where would she sleep? How long would she be here? Would she live through this?

Drawing a ragged breath, hand clutching an elbow, tears burning her eyes, Sakura just stood there and hopelessly awaited her orders from this boy in front of her.

Katsuro tilted his head and considered her question. Then, eyebrows hitching up and expression going slack, his mouth finally worked a little "oh" at the realization that she did not have anything with her: He had forgotten to take her into account when he packed.

"Oh yeah," was all he could mutter, but the rest of the group figured it out as well and roared with laughter.

"Shutup!" he yelled over his shoulder at them.

"You can have my blanket," he grumbled quietly to her.

She could hear the men chortling around the campfire, snippets of insults floated over. One in particular came from the big one, saying he thought it was "funny, the runt has to sleep on the floor. Not used to that now is he?" That bit of humor got a lot of laughs.

Clearly irritated, Katsuro stepped around her, set the orange down and unfurled his blanket over the dusty ground, aiming for the bit with the least rocks. Happy to be finished with his task and ready to find his own spot in the compound without teammates or kunoichis, he leaned over, snatched up the orange, turned on his heel and pushed it roughly into the girl's free hand.

The cry she let out completely surprised him, and it wasn't until the orange had already slipped through her hand and bounced halfway to the wall that he remembered her injury from the bindings, the one that he had inflicted. He felt like he was going to be punished for everything tonight.

"I can't eat it," she said, holding back tears.

"Oh... yeah," he said, not sure why until he realized she probably couldn't peel it. He set to work removing the skin when she stopped him.

"No, my stomach hurts, I don't think I can eat," she dissembled. She was unraveling from the ordeal, and she wanted to lie down and weep. "I think I'll just rest," Sakura added, holding a sob back until the end.

"Ok," he said quietly, and left her alone in the striated light behind the columns

But Katsuro knew too well that she would soon be crying herself to sleep.

He sat down at the base of one of the nearby columns, now red and orange in the dying firelight. A few of the men glanced up, but the young shinobi was no longer a source of interest. Warmth and drowsiness seemed to be tugging at them all.

Pulling his knees up and quietly peeling the orange, Katsuro took his time to break it into segments without damaging it. He ate a few pieces, chewing slowly, making it last. He tipped his head back against the column and watched the fire dwindle to a warm glow through half-closed eyes, listening to the soft noises around him. Once her crying subsided and her breathing modulated, then he could find rest too.

Hours later, Sakura stirred in the darkness, awakening suddenly in fear. But she stilled her movements as the memory of the previous day seeped in. She blinked, willing her bleary eyes to focus on the cracked wall in front of her, then turned quietly under the blanket to survey the dimly lit room. A bright fragrance floated up through the shifting air. There on the ground beside her head were a dozen or so orange segments cupped in a few of the larger peels. A few feet beyond that lay the sleeping form of the boy, his back to her.

She slipped a hand out and retrieved a segment, ducking back under the edge of the blanket to savor the fruit as quietly as possible. It's bright spark in the darkness, combined with desperately needed sleep, made her feel much better than she thought she could feel. She finished the rest of the orange pieces and considered her situation, what she'd endured already, what may lie ahead. She wouldn't give up yet. She could get through this. Sighing softly, Sakura readjusted the blanket around her and willed herself back to sleep.

Nearby, the breathing which had halted in it's rhythmic pattern at the the rustling of the blanket, slowly resumed it's pace, keeping time with the kunoichi's now steadying breaths.

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A/N: Thanks for all the great reviews and faves. I'm so glad you like my little naru/saku story. This chapter is much more scenic than some of the others, and I hope I've painted an adequate picture of their journey. The last scene of Katsuro leaving her the orange is one of my favorites, and I've been dying to post it. So, I hope you like it too!

Cupcake, I'm glad you can see the story taking shape. It's a slow burn, I guess. And it's hard to stick to just posting once a week. Each time, I can't wait to post the next chapter! But I'm trying to be patient and let the story unfold. Tina... thanks for the lovely words! Graven-chan, hugs for you! The reviews made my day!

Please read and review!

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**Chapter Notes: 6/4**

• Naruto in Part 1 could be pretty pissy, so I've given Katsuro a healthy temper, but without some of the immaturity. — _"Don't stop," Katsuro said behind her. It had been the first she'd heard his voice in hours, and she wondered if the long walk had cooled his temper any._ — But I also portray him as being able to show a great deal of kindness in this chapter. His friendship skills are rusty at first, but he grows in this chapter and the next several to much friendlier. It's a bumpy road, but he makes it.

• In this chapter, Katsuro is beginning to recognize her, identify with her. Sakura makes it clear to Katsuro the she feels she alone is responsible for the trouble the family is in, and that she realizes she alone can make a difference. Though he doesn't know it now, her bravery, taking a stand in the face of something nearly insurmountable, will shape Katsuro's decisions later.

• When he and Sakura are climbing the rocks and he's questioning her, he gets pissed at her answers. — _"He was waiting for it, some high-flown sentiment, some ridiculous ninja creed."_ — A little twist on Naruto always having a saying, a nindo, 'Don't underestimate me,' etc. Brought up the way he has been, Katsuro would shirk those things.

• _"Seeing her pull herself together, turn and tackle the rock again, lifted him out of his bad mood. He decided to try again as well."_ — Sakura is living her "Don't give up" nindo, and is it beginning to rub off on Naruto. This theme will lightly be touched on throughout the story.

Lots of spoiler notes for this chapter. If you're interested, click the homepage link on my bio.


	6. Out of the Darkness

Chapter 6 - Out of the Darkness

Grey light seeped across the room. Persistent rustling hung in the air. A tiny pebble dug relentlessly into her stiff shoulder. In the dim light of morning, things were conspiring against Sakura.

The rogues, who had plenty of time to rest the day before, were awake, shuffling and talking, inconsiderate of everyone. The din was slowly rising with the sun.

Sakura opened her eyes a fraction and was glad to see no one had taken notice of them yet. She quietly slid the blanket up to her face and peered out. Katsuro — 'the boy,' she thought petulantly — was turned on his side facing her, back to the room. He was sleeping.

'Figures,' she thought.

Dust clung to the careless licks of brown hair, and his face was smooth from sleep, only his eyelashes fluttering occasionally. He could have been any kid in her village, she thought. Sakura didn't know why she was so irritated with him. She blew out a angry breath. It had something to do with his jettisoned face covering and the surprise it concealed: his age. If there had been a modicum of trust in the last throes of their trek, it was gone now. As if hiding his age was a greater injury than abducting her in the first place, she thought with chagrin.

'Well, I've changed my mind,' she decided. 'I liked him better all wrapped up.'

One of the men looked over, Sakura snapped her eyes shut. And just as she did, Katsuro cracked his open.

He had been listening to her stir, aware that her breathing had changed, and a few times peeked at her to make sure no one in the room had noticed them yet. Sleep was out of the picture now, but at least they could rest a little longer. And it gave him time to prepare for the day.

He knew he wanted to stay away from the other men as much as possible. There was always trouble where they were involved.

Running through his options of what he could do, where he could go with his charge, Katsuro thought he saw the girl move and glanced at her face.

She had snapped her eyes shut and was obviously feigning sleep. He continued to watch her from under hooded eyes. After a moment she felt comfortable enough to peek out again. He let the corners of his mouth tug into a smile, which was rewarded with a little huff. Smirking at her response, he slowly opened his eyes.

"Thanks," she said quietly, slanting a glance at the orange.

He gave a short nod and was about to speak, but the words died on his lips.

"...No, make him earn it..." carried over from the cluster of men at the fire circle. It punctuated a string of grumbled, indiscernible comments.

Katsuro's eyes were locked on the kunoichi's, but they darkened with anger. She had stilled herself at the sound too, and watched his face for any sign of trouble. When he said nothing, she flicked her gaze out to the room. Her eyes widened minutely. Katsuro could tell from her expression that they were looking at her, at them.

"Yeah, you heard me," the biggest one called over to them, addressing Katsuro's back. "Go get us some water and we'll let you have some food. Otherwise it's going to be really hard for you — and her —" he ground out, "to make it up here. Wouldn't want Itachi to think you've failed now, would we?" He let the last statement hang in the air, but the other men felt bold enough to make their contributions now.

Sakura quickly fixed her eyes back on Katsuro, determined not to give them an audience. She tried her hardest not to flinch as the men continued their tirade.

"Our stomachs or your mission," came a falsetto taunt.

"We shouldn't give 'em anything at all," another voice grunted.

"Well?" the big man said loudly, ending all other discussion. "Do you want to eat or not?" He paused, then rejoined with his own marching orders. "Get up, boy. You've got work to do."

Across from her, Katsuro lay deathly still. His eyes narrowed and he balled his hand into a fist in the dirt. Sakura could tell it was taking a monumental effort to keep his hot temper under control.

She had been expecting them to come to blows for some time now, and she wondered if this was the time. He didn't seem like the type to take orders, and the big one didn't look like he'd let this go.

But whatever his thoughts were about inflicting bodily harm on the other men, Katsuro surprised her when he opened his hand, spread his fingers out over the ground and sighed deeply.

"You'll need to eat," he said with a frown.

Sakura looked away, knowing she was the cause of this new little tension between them.

As if he wouldn't be eating if she weren't here, she thought. As if he wouldn't be in this situation if she hadn't interfered with their ambush. She frowned but said nothing. It was her fault, again.

He pushed himself up, the movement kicking little dust clouds into the air between them. Sakura rolled on her back under the blanket and looked up at him, waiting. She didn't know what was expected of her in this equation.

"Come on, we're gonna be here for a while," he said in a monotone, patting the dust from his dark fatigues. "I'll show you around, then you can help carry the water back up."

Sakura could tell he was angry, but resigned to the task. Katsuro turned and briskly crossed the floor to a small doorway in the opposite corner of the room.

'No bindings then,' she thought. 'This really is a prison without walls.'

But the knowledge they were staying made her hopeful. She was safe for the time being from whatever fate awaited her with Itachi. And the more time she had, the better her chances of finding a way out of this mess.

He turned back, waiting for her, impatient to get on with his task.

Hurriedly shoving the blanket over to his pack, Sakura followed him across the walkway.

Outside, the fallen away wall revealed nothing more than the outlines of trees through the clinging mist. Inside, the room stretched away from her into murky darkness. It was much larger than she remembered from the previous night. Though the sun was up, a fire was still needed to illuminate the center of the room, and even then the light did not make into all the corners.

The men hovering near the fire ignored their passing, and Sakura did not look to see how many were lingering in the dim light.

Passing through the narrow doorway, the kunoichi quickly found herself descending a winding stairwell, down, down, over crumbling steps and past window holes and other narrow doorways. Some still had rustic wooden doors, others had lost theirs long ago.

The ones without doors gave her a little glimpse into the lower levels of the temple. From what she could see they were empty rooms as well. But she didn't have time to linger — her warden was moving swiftly down the steps.

Sakura had counted several doors when one caught her attention. It was rustic and handmade, but it retained some of it's bright red paint, and was bedecked with much finer hardware.

The difference brought her to a stop, while Katsuro's footsteps pounded away down the stairs.

Ornate metal hinges created a filigree pattern against the worn timbers. And what at first glance looked like a lock was in reality an intricately patterned pin wedged into an equally detailed metal fastener. It was rusty, but she knew she could open it.

Somewhere outside the building a bird was chirping, the leaves made a thin rustling sound. But around her it was deliciously silent. She was alone.

'Just a quick peek,' Sakura thought.

Curling her hair behind her ears, she wiggled the rusty metal free of it's hold and let the heavy door swing open. Sakura peered into the thick darkness. There was something in there. Something amazing.

Katsuro had continued on, but when he didn't hear her behind him anymore he backtracked to find her.

"Hey," Katsuro called from down the steps. Sakura looked down the curved wall to see him waiting for her, caught in the glow of some unseen window. She could clearly make out his frown. She ignored it.

"What room is this," she said turning back to the doorway. He shrugged.

"There are paintings in here. Really remarkable paintings," she said slowly, sticking her head inside the doorway, squinting in the low light. "Do you think it's safe to go in?" she called over her shoulder.

He trudged back up the steps, curiosity piqued enough to start him moving. "Probably. I don't know," he said, his voice still dull.

But she was already moving across the dusty room by the time he returned to the landing.

The air was thick and stagnant, and the only light came from a few shuttered window holes. Katsuro could see now what had caught her eye from the doorway. Slants of light fell across the other panel-covered walls. Everywhere there were faces and scenes, bright patches of clothes, edges of roofs, glimpses of landscapes, flashes of villages and the people who lived in them.

She moved quickly down the long wall flinging the shutters back one at a time. When she was finished she turned to smile at her discovery.

It was like the sun had risen on another world. Painted screens wrapped around the room and were covered from top to bottom with glorious illustrations of villages and landscapes, battles and clan gatherings, men training and women visiting. There was a single path wandering through it all, upon which traveled a man who looked like none of them.

Still frozen in the doorway, Katsuro's mouth fell open. He moved closer to her, trying to take it all in, but simply couldn't. He didn't know where to look first.

All around them dust billowed up, little flecks sparkling in the large beams of light. It gave the paintings and the whole room a magical air. Like she had just opened a treasure box.

"Look," she said moving quickly to identify the sequence of events played out on the panels. It began with a painted battle scene from the days before the villages. Sakura didn't know much about the groups represented, clans she'd never heard of, but understood the story it told. It was an old folk tale about a sage with great power who spread his knowledge throughout the world. And even though she knew none of the participants she could tell some of the areas represented, forests, deserts, snowy mountains and oceans. It was a tale interweaving myth with the real land in which they lived.

Brown eyes wide, Katsuro was rapt. He listened to her story and watched the action being played out on the walls in front of him.

She went panel by panel, moving across, telling the tale with her hands.

"Here, these would have been the best warriors of the day," she said motioning to a group of engaged in fierce battle. She moved to the next screen, sweeping her arm high, "...and here, the sage travelled to another land to meet the leaders of the local clans. See, you can tell by their head pieces," she said, stopping to point at the men's unusually-shaped hats. She continued on, walking around the room, talking about the men and women painted in exquisite detail, the changing of seasons, the sage's journey.

Katsuro stayed right beside her listening to it all, wondering about the colorful battles, the long journey and where strangely dressed man would wind up.

But Sakura already knew how this story would end, for them at least. She glanced ahead and sighed softly. Her warden hadn't yet noticed, as caught up as he was in the fascinating story, that the last panels were gone, taken in antiquity. Even the spaces where they used to hang on the old wall were as dark as their surroundings.

"Keep going," he said, eyes still devouring the screen they stood in front of. His tone was so earnest she didn't have the heart to tell him the tragedy that was to come.

'No one likes a story without an ending,' she thought, 'be it ninjas or rogues.'

She continued, studying the paintings, narrating as best as she could, explaining when he had questions about a few unusual things ("Are his hands on fire?" he asked; "I think he's demonstrating how chakra works," she said. "What's he carrying," he asked; "That's a prayer staff," she said. "What's wrong with his eyes," he asked; "Um...I don't really know," she said.)

They moved to the last set, but it needed no narration. The heroic sage battled with a fanciful demon under a yellow moon. Both were poised to attack amid long streams of pale light.

But just at the decisive moment, the panel ended.

Katsuro frowned but said nothing. The empty wall stretched away from them, lonely and vast without it's grand story. Sakura sighed again.

A thought perked him up. "Do you know what happened?" he asked quickly.

"Oh no," she said. "Part of it is about how chakra was created, and everyone knows that old story, but the rest I've never heard of." She shrugged, adding, "maybe just ghost stories for the monks who lived here," she said with a grin.

Catching Katsuro's serious look, she remembered herself and turned to peruse some of the illustrations again.

"How do you know all of this," he said, following her back down the line of panels.

"I learned it from academy, like everyone else. Although I suppose I studied a bit harder," she finished quietly. Sakura hit upon another idea. "Didn't you go to academy?" she asked with feigned innocence.

He didn't answer, so she turned to gauge his reaction. Maybe he didn't hear the question, she thought.

But he was regarding her, hands on his hips, head cocked to the side, an unmistakeable smirk plastered on his face. He'd seen through her little guise handily.

An unrepentant smile ghosted across her lips.

She had to admit that without the concealments, he was much easier to read and much less intimidating. And she was happy to see he wasn't as irritated with her guesswork as she thought he might be.

"Let's go get the water," he said. She silently acquiesced and followed him to the stairs, leaving the glittering, light filled room behind.

Both were silent after that, winding down past more and more floors.

Katsuro's thoughts were consumed with the old tale, wondering what action played out on those final panels.

Sakura's mind was more directly concerned. The boy in front of her was a puzzle. What was he doing here, with these awful men, and apparently in charge. She remembered the morning's altercation and rethought it: Maybe he wasn't in charge. The kunoichi bit her lip and shook her head. She just couldn't tell. And why the disguises, for all of them? The gaps in his story were large enough to fall through.

Katsuro took the last steps two at a time, disappearing from Sakura's sight around the final curve.

She bounded down as well, the bottom steps emptying out in front of her onto a large stone floor. But peering out through the narrow doorway, Sakura was unprepared for the sight that waited there. If the room on the upper floor had been all darkness and concealment, then this was it's lofty, light-filled opposite.

The roof vaulted above them, going up at least two floors, and was backed by mountainside on the back wall. Along the opposite wall, tall arches soared over a moss covered ledge. Where there had been windows in other parts of the building, it looked as if this had always been open to the outside world. Long vines dangled down into the arches, the light illuminating their leaves, and birds flew in and out, wary of the intruders to their habitat. In the center of the room, where Katsuro stood smiling, there was a large stone well. He rested his hand on it's heavy wood lid and waited for her.

"Beautiful, isn't it?" he said.

"Yes," she said softly, green eyes wide with amazement as she crossed the floor.

He smiled again, watching her take it all in. It was one of his favorite places, and made the journey up there worth it.

She walked to the arched wall and looked over the edge while he set to unfastening the lid from the old well.

They were at the base of the temple, and just beyond the ledge, tons of leaf-littered stones jumbled down the steep slope. Ancient grey tree trunks dotted the landscape, their canopies high above them now. This was some of what they had scaled in darkness the night before. Looking at the abrupt drop in the boulders, mist encroaching around the obvious cliff face the temple was built into, Sakura was glad she couldn't see any of that as they were climbing. It made her stomach clench just thinking about it.

Katsuro splashed a wooden bucket down into the well, and slowly pulled up the sloshing vessel. Pattering sounds echoed around the room. He balanced it on the edge and inspected the water, dipping his cupped hand in for a taste.

"Really good," he said, shaking water from his fingers and wiping his wet mouth on his sleeve.

Katsuro plunked the bucket on the stones below the well, found a small ladle amid the stack of buckets in the corner and motioned for the girl to join him. Positioning themselves comfortably on either side of the bucket, backs against the well and knees drawn up, he passed the scoop over to her for a sip.

Savoring the cold water, Sakura didn't realize how thirsty she'd been. Leaning her head back, she watched the vines sway in the breeze, birds fluttering back to their perches. She took another sip, then handed the ladle back to her warden.

It was serene, tranquil. A peaceful spot apparently on top of the world. But how did he factor into all of this. He was obviously so different from those men. She wondered if he secretly wanted to come down here, and maybe that's why he didn't put up so much of a fight.

She thought she'd try again.

"This is beautiful," she said.

"One of my favorite places," he said, his voice taking on a more relaxed tone than she'd ever heard.

"Does your group come up here often?" she asked, peaking up at him as she accepted the proffered ladle again.

"Enough," he said crisply, balancing his hands on his knees.

"Hmm," she hummed after a gulp of water, propping the scoop beside the bucket. "You don't seem anything like those men you're traveling with. Those guys really have it out for you," she said, hoping he would feel comfortable enough to fraternize with her about their shared problem.

He turned his head to the side, looked over the bucket and fixed a skeptical gaze on her. Sakura understood and turned away. She was the reason they had it out for him right now. But they seemed to have longer-standing issues with him. She lightened her tone and tried a different tack.

"So, are you the one in charge, or is it the big one?"

He kept his eyes on her face, mouth open slightly in indignance, and flicked his fingers out as if he couldn't believe her nerve.

"I mean, you're so young," she specified quickly, ignoring that it would probably draw a more ire. But if she could just determine who was in charge—

"You're pretty nosy," he snapped. She looked at him, then looked at the scenery, then turned back with another idea.

"So where did you grow up?" she said with a smile.

He rolled his eyes and stood up.

"If you want to tell me about your life, then I'd be happy to tell you about mine," he said, ending their nonexistent conversation.

Sakura couldn't argue with that so she dropped it, for now.

He pulled out two more buckets and filled them, then handed her the lighter one they'd been drinking from.

"Carry this one," he said, pushing the wire handle into her hand. "The stairs take a lot longer going back up."

Sakura saw him pick up the other two in either hand. He was being kind, she thought, but he didn't need to.

She looked at her arms, both still laced with red with welts from the bindings. She would have to channel chakra to her arm and hand, lending enough strength to make it back up. He didn't know it, she thought, but a task like that wasn't altogether bad because she gained the added benefit of accelerated healing. And if she had to do it for one arm, it was just as easy to do it for both.

"Give me another one. I can handle it," she said, smiling, free hand extended.

He just frowned at her. But if she thought she could, he thought, then who was he to say no.

"Well, ok..." he said, doubt in his voice, thinking she didn't know just how heavy those buckets were going to feel by the time they reached the top floor. He filled and hauled up a second one for her. "Just set it down when it gets too much for you, and I'll come back and get it."

"Ok," she said, not dissuaded.

Shaking his head at her stubbornness, smiling to himself that she was just acting strong, he slid the wire handle onto her hand. Retrieving his own, they began the long walk back up the stairs. He walked in front of her so she could go slower if she needed to.

A few floors from the top, though, his hands were burning. He didn't think he could make it without easing up.

'She's got to be feeling it,' he thought, 'just not saying anything.' He stopped at a landing and set his two buckets down.

The kunoichi came up behind him and set her buckets down as well, but did not seem as winded as he was. And she wasn't even rubbing her hands.

"Do you think we'll need to get more?" she asked. She peered past him at the locked door.

"More? I think four should be enough for today," he said, watching for telltale signs of fatigue. "But aren't you tired? Even I'm tired," he said honestly.

"No," she answered, eyes still darting around the platform and portal, searching for clues to what this floor held. "I channeled my chakra to my muscles, and into my hands, so the chakra did the work. It depletes me a little, but it adds in strength," she said, finally catching the hard look he was giving her. "It's medic-nin stuff," she finished lamely. Maybe he didn't understand what she was talking about, she thought.

"Then that would make you pretty strong too, right," he said summing her up, thinking she was hiding something.

She looked at him questioningly, not quite understanding where he was going.

"Strong? I'm far from being a good healer, but I am capable enough." She wasn't sure whether to be offended or not.

"No," he continued. "It should mean you're strong in battle, able to optimize your strength when you need it." He was logically summing up her capabilities. She obviously had a solid battle skill with chakra control, he thought, but then she why didn't she use it? Why didn't she put up a fight back at camp when there was a possibility of escape? She still regarded him with open confusion. He made it as simple as possible.

"It should mean you've got a strong punch, right?" he said.

"Well...uh...no," she cobbled together in response. He clearly didn't understand her role in the team. "I'm a medic-nin. I don't actively engage in combat. Medic's focus battle skills are evasion, to keep yourself alive to heal others," she said, reciting some of Konoha's med-nin mission code.

His eyebrows hitched up. Katsuro held back his opinion that she was about as good at evading enemy nin as her teammates were at protecting her from them.

"Come on," he said, hoisting the buckets back up to finish their task. "Let's finish up and get something to eat."

They returned to the top level; it looked much the same as when they left it hours before. The men were still lazing, fire still guttering unattended. They deposited the buckets just inside the door.

Leaning over, Katsuro said quietly, "Apple or orange?"

"Orange," she said, after deducing he was going to go find them some food. He nodded.

She watched him disappear into the darkness down the long walkway, and, finding the men scattered around the steps watching her, she decided to go the opposite direction. Though she didn't see any of the faces she'd marked out for trouble, but none of them looked friendly.

By the time she had come to a stop a respectable distance from the gaping hole in the wall, Katsuro was striding back across the tiles with two oranges.

Katsuro nodded to sit down — "It's safe," he replied at the kunoichi's trepidation — and they dangled their legs off the edge of the broken floor.

Sakura took in the view of the canopy while she peeled apart her orange. Pulling her arm back, the kunoichi was about to fling an especially flat piece into the trees, when Katsuro stopped her. She turned wide eyes on him, confusion marked out by the thin frown-line between her brows.

"Don't throw it," he said quietly. "Someone could find it and track us."

Her shoulders dropped. She looked back out into the trees and let the peel drop from her fingers onto the ground between them.

Katsuro had another little pang of guilt. He innately understood that she wanted to see how far the peel could go, probably already had a limb or leaf picked out as a target. And he had squelched that moment. He had to, he knew, but he didn't feel good about it.

Reaching out beside him, Katsuro found a small stone and passed it over as a peace offering.

"You can throw as many of those as you want," he said, peeking up at her face in the last moment to catch the corners of her mouth curl up into a small smile.

She accepted it, and pegged a tree trunk quite a distance from where they sat. They passed a good bit of time this way, silently seeing who could throw rocks the furthest.

"Put a little chakra behind it," he asked thoughtfully, curious to see how far it would go.

The tips of her fingers glowed green where they connected with the rock. She drew her arm back for a good pitch, and it went much farther that time before the pleasing hollow knock of stone hitting wood echoed back to them.

"Hmmph," he said, bouncing his rock in his hand, now even deeper in thought. Pleased with herself, Sakura threw a few more.

"So let me see if I understand this," he said at length. "As a medic ninja, your village sends you on missions into enemy territory, but doesn't expect you to fight?" he said.

She shrugged and said, "Not exactly. We are trained to avoid conflicts to keep from being injured, thereby increasing our chances of healing others."

"You don't fight," he said flatly.

She cleared her throat. "Well, not the way you mean, I'm sure...But no, medic nins don't 'fight.'"

He caught the stone in his fist.

"Then you're a liability," he said, summing her up and dismissing her in the same breath.

It was partially true. He had picked her out as the weak spot on her team, but she had proved stronger than he ever expected. No, he thought, if anything, it was just another mark against her village. He waited to see how she would react to his goading.

"I am not," she snapped. Anger flaring, she met his challenging gaze with one of her own. "I happen to be an expert with a scalpel _and_ a kunai."

He couldn't hold back. "And yet none of those things kept you safe?" he said with a smirk.

She turned her face away from him. It was a small gesture, but seemed the only thing she could do when faced with this line of questioning. She wouldn't tell him that she was overwhelmed by surprise, that she had been so deep in thought, so angry at her teammates for being truly awful, so angry at herself for letting everyone down again, that she simply wasn't paying attention to her surroundings. A mistake even a civilian wouldn't make, let alone a shinobi. And then the genjutsu. She ground her hand into a fist. It was a real weakness she was powerless against. How do you fight a genjutsu when you've never even experienced one?

She wouldn't admit any of this to him, no matter how much he questioned her. She was trying her best not to make any more mistakes now, and she was pretty sure that letting the enemy know your weakest points was a doozy.

Ready to be done with this, Sakura took the easy way out and forced his hand.

"What is it you want from me? What do you want me to say?" she said quietly.

"Nothing," his tone immediately lightened, but the kunoichi didn't trust it. "Really. I just wondered why your village tells you to go into battle — medic nin or not — yet doesn't teach you how to fight, that's all."

There was no appropriate response she could give voice too. He was wrong — of course she had been taught to fight, to survive — but here she was anyway, so her training must not have amounted to much. It wasn't her village at fault, she was the one always falling behind.

The kunoichi angrily folded her arms across her chest, pushed her lips into a thin line and blew a breath out through her nose, physically refusing to say anything to him.

He chuckled quietly. Anyone else would have brought it to blows. But provoking her was just plain fun, and she didn't disappoint with her responses to him.

But suddenly his amusement evaporated.

"Shit, I forgot," he said to himself, jumping up from his spot. "I didn't put the cover back over the well," he said. He regarded her, unmoving from her position. "Don't get up, I'll be right back."

She turned her head a little in his direction, her previous expression replaced by one of skepticism, surprised that he would let her sit there by herself.

As if reading her thoughts he continued, "Don't worry, there's no where you can run to from here. And if you did, I'd catch you," he finished, smiling.

She could hear the grin in his tone of voice and rolled her eyes.

"I'll stay here," was all she said, making it perfectly clear that she was neither agreeing to his terms nor obeying his command, instead simply choosing not to get up. He laughed at her again and strode away.

His gamble with the merchant family had paid off, he thought. It was much easier to have a friendly hostage than a belligerent prisoner. Katsuro merrily trotted down the old stairs, congratulating himself on his wise choice and sense of forethought in the face of a crisis.

Sakura kicked her legs out over the expanse again, savoring the freedom of being left by herself for a few minutes. She imagined that if she were a bird she could just fly away, right off the ledge.

Her thoughts were curtailed by the gravelly sound of foot fall chiming in her ear. As the footsteps approached from the direction of the stairwell, she turned her head a half turn to throw back a jibe at him over her shoulder.

"What did you forget this time," she said smirking, glad to have something to zing him with, swinging her legs in anticipation of his response.

But the rush of wind from behind would be her only clue that something was amiss.

Swiftly caught up by the column of her neck, Sakura was ripped away from the ledge and slammed bodily against the wall. White hot pain exploded behind her eyes and burned out her vision momentarily. Her fingers clawed at the single thick hand that pinned her to the wall, holding her chin up so high her feet did not touch the floor. She coughed and sputtered, trying desperately to draw in air.

"You little bitch!" a voice growled into her face. "Did you think we wouldn't figure it out?"

* * *

**Author's Note:** This chapter was supposed to have a little more action in it, but it was tremendously long! So, this was a natural place to break it - sorry! I'm glad to see people are figuring out some of the mysteries surrounding Katsuro...yes he is Naruto, and he does have a transformation jutsu of some kind. I don't want there to be confusion or for a reader to be put off that he is an OC. And I don't want to write things that are so convoluted you don't enjoy it. But since some reviewers are hitting the nail on the head, I just want to tell you that you are right! I put in a clue in the first chapter where Katsuro plucks the leaf and tears it in two, which is what Naruto does when he masters the wind element. It's a small thing, I know, but it's there just the same.

Which leads me to another quandry. I've written in lots of little bits like the one above: some things are nuances about a character or a place that help define them, either now or later, but it doesn't necessarily bonk you over the head; some things are references to haikus and real places (haven't gotten to those yet); and some things are character descriptions that are just plain spoilers. If you have an opinion, would you rather have I write a condensed author's note on each chapter with a little extra description, but leave off any possible spoiler info, or link to another site with full author's notes plus spoilers (I'll make those clickable so they're hidden away in case you don't want to read them)? With each chapter there's more and more, and if you are interested I'd be happy to share. :)

**Chapter notes (mini version!):** The inspiration for the panels came from the tale of the Shuten Doji, a Japanese folktale. The Freer Gallery in Washington DC had a huge exhibit a year ago. It is a graphic retelling of a man who defeats a demon, and it was spellbinding. It was painted on screens, fans and scrolls and retold over and over down through the centuries. So it fit nicely with a myth about the rikudo sage.

Please read and review, and let me know if you're interested in abridged or full author's notes!

Thank you so much for the reviews! They are wonderful and thought-provokoking, and I'll try to respond as best as possible.

**Reviewer notes:** Kungfu: I know exactly what you mean about worrying about characters, and I'm so deeply touched at your comment. It's a world of praise, I assure you. Yes, there is some angsty stuff right now, but it will be over soon. I am trying to keep the theme/mood of the chapters different so it's not too overwhelming. And there's a lot of good action to come. It just has to build up. As an author, all I can say is it's really hard not to want to put up tons of chapters at the same time! And yes! Katsuro is under a transformation jutsu. Bad ol' Itachi.

Witchy-Mage: I'm so glad you are enjoying the pace. I'm trying to create a setting and a trust between them, and it just takes time. So I hope you will enjoy the chapters to come. And thanks so much for your notice of my less flowery description of the two. I want to develop more love and less infatuation, so I've intentionally tried to keep their descriptions more realistice. It means so much that you've noticed!

animemistress419: you're right about Katsuro, and I'm glad that his characterization shines through the disguise.

Dark-Syaoran: I'm sorry my story is a little confusing. Like I said somewhere, it's a slow burn NaruSaku, coupled with a disguised Naruto. I could have put it all out there at the beginning, but I wanted a little suspense, even if it might cost me a few less intrepid readers. So thanks for sticking it out and even giving me a thoughtful review! So, it will come out a little later (quasi-spoiler, can't be helped!) that Katsuro does his best to keep his skills and chakra hidden. It is all part of keeping his identity hidden too. As for Sakura, she had chakra suppression bindings on. But from here on out there will be more and more identifiable elements to both of them.

Gravenimage, kekisan20, exiled rain: thanks so much for your reviews. I'm glad your enjoying it!

* * *

**Chapter Notes - 6/4**

• _In the dim light of morning, things were conspiring against Sakura._ — This line in the first graf is about her being awoken by noises, but it also foreshadows the end of the chapter. When something literally does come out of the darkness to get her.

• _The gaps in his story were large enough to fall through._ — Little word play on my part. It's from Sakura's narrative after the painting scene, when she's thinking about Katsuro's backstory. So you could take it to mean Katsuro's history, or it could be a tie-in to the painting they've just left, or it could be a reflection of the story your reading right now! With huge missing pieces waiting to be filled in! :)

• _Leaning over, Katsuro said quietly, "Apple or orange?" "Orange," she said, after deducing he was going to go find them some food. He nodded._ — There will never be an orange tracksuit in my story! But you can guess now how this color will weave it's way through! They both have a preference for oranges. This theme will be touched on again and again.

• _"Then you're a liability," he said, summing her up and dismissing her in the same breath._ — Sakura will throw those words back at him one day.


	7. Black and Blue, and Red

Chapter 7 - Black and Blue, and Red

_

* * *

From Chapter 6:_

_The rush of wind from behind would be her only clue that something was amiss._

_Swiftly caught up by the column of her neck, Sakura was ripped away from the ledge and slammed bodily against the wall. White hot pain exploded behind her eyes and burned out her vision momentarily. Her fingers clawed at the single thick hand that pinned her to the wall, holding her chin up so high her feet did not touch the floor. She coughed and sputtered, trying desperately to draw in air._

_"You little bitch!" a voice growled into her face. "Did you think we wouldn't figure it out?"_

* * *

Hot breath seared across her cheeks. Through tear-blurred vision, Sakura could make out the biggest man, raging and hurling curses into her face. Several of the men she'd healed were closing in behind him.

But all her power to fight back was eclipsed by that most basic need for air. Her mind was screaming, her actions driven by desperate reflexes.

Jerking her knees up, Sakura grabbed the man's thick wrist and tried to physically wriggle up the wall and out from underneath his grasp. But this only stoked his anger.

The man loosened the clamp-hold a moment just to slam her head against the wall again. Sakura choked down a gulp of air before the rest was crushed out of her windpipe. Another burst of pain radiated from the back of her head, this one clouding her vision and muffling the sound around her.

Only adrenaline and the overpowering need to survive jolted Sakura back into action against the man.

"I should throw you off this mountain!" he yelled into her tear-streaked face. She shook her head fiercely, trying again to pry the hand off her neck and push herself up through his grasp.

In the next moment though, she inexplicably found relief. Pitched with tremendous force to the tile floor, Sakura's face and shoulders crumpled into the cloud of dust that sprang up at the disturbance. She drew in ragged heaves, her body coiling in on itself to minimize the pain. At the edge of her consciousness there were voices and yelling, but the exploding pain at the back of her head and terrifying tightness at her throat rendered the rest of her surroundings a blur.

The kunoichi had no notion of how long she'd been there, balled up against the pain, when she heard someone speaking, felt a warm hand at her back.

"Come on. Can you stand? We've got to move," was the urgent command. The warm pressure moved in a slight circular motion with the words. It sounded distant, but it was getting clearer.

"Come on," he said again. Sakura recognized the voice to be Katsuro's. He reached over to cup her shoulder then hooked his other arm around her back and pulled her up to standing.

"Can you walk? We're going downstairs," he said softly right next to her face. She was moving beside him, shoulders rounded and both hands at her throat, squeezing her eyes shut. Tears were still streaming down, but she was trying so hard to keep from crying out. She pushed her lips together and gave a nod.

Katsuro steered her down the ancient staircase, staying a step ahead of her and moving in tandem, just as they had done the previous night on the mountainside. By the time they arrived several floors below, her breathing was beginning to calm and her tears had started to ebb, even though the pain was still intense.

He led her across a dark room as big as the one upstairs, dimly lit by a scant few window openings near the stairwell. They walked straight through the middle of the room, to a narrow doorway on the opposite side. Katsuro toed the door back, and propped it open for her pass through.

Hands still protectively clasped around her throat, Sakura blinked in the unexpected brightness. The room was small and paneled with wood, illuminated by a large open window on the wall opposite the door. There were no shutters here, and years of exposure to the elements had taken it's toll on the once grand room. Only traces of red and yellow paint clung to the edges of the walls, sunk deep in the grooves of the old wood. Carved out of a corner was a miniscule fireplace, it's rocks as grey and worn as the paneling.

A strong breeze blew into the room as the door was opened. The cool air on her skin made Sakura feel marginally better.

"We'll be staying here," Katsuro said. He guided the kunoichi into the room and then stepped back to close the door behind them.

"Just a second," she heard him say, then he was gone.

Standing in the middle of the room, Sakura tried swallowing, but the muscles she normally took for granted rebelled from her command. It was agony. She slid a hand into her hair at her temple and balled it into a fist, trying to bite back the pain.

On the other side of the door, Katsuro flew through a hand seal and quietly dispatched the waiting clone to fetch water, with specific instructions to leave it outside when he returned. He stepped back into the room and noiselessly closed the door.

"Come on, let's sit down," he said with a sigh, motioning to the wall under the window.

Gingerly sitting down beside him, Sakura cried out suddenly and grabbed at the back of her legs, sliding the rest of the way down the little wall. Closing her hands over the offending areas, she tried to still her raspy cries. Katsuro leaned into her and carefully moved her fingers to examine the injury. Red scrapes tore down the backs of her knees.

'She was sitting on the ledge, when I went to get water. Those bastards must have drug her off of it,' he thought. He let go of her hands and shook his head.

"So, did they show up right after I left?" he asked. She nodded once.

His tone hardened and he looked up into her face.

"You should have told me what you'd done to them. I'd have never left you alone."

The kunoichi closed her eyes. A few thin tears streaked down, leaving fresh trails through her dirt-smeared cheeks.

Yes, he thought, deciding her guilty tears were as good as a confession, he'd found out about the injuries she'd inflicted on the men. They'd discovered it too, and had been lying in wait, predator and prey.

'How long did she think she could get away with something like that?' he thought, shaking his head again.

A sound outside the room drew Katsuro's attention. Before she could take notice of it, he was up and across the room, pushing the door closed behind him. He dismissed the clone without a word, only it's hollow 'pop' echoed in the long, empty chamber. Katsuro readjusted the wire handle, and was just deciding how long he should wait before returning with bucket in hand, when he caught sight of the medic-nin through a crack in the door. Left alone, the girl had begun the healing process. He stilled his breathing and leaned forward for a better look, a strip of pale light falling softly across his face in the darkness.

The kunoichi held a wretchedly marked hand in front of her, watching it until a little glimmer of light appeared at the edges. When the glow wrapped up around the back and sufficiently engulfed it, then she raised her hand to her throat and closed her eyes. An eerie pale green light seeped from her hand to encompass her neck. Katsuro couldn't help but be amazed as the welts on her hand faded under the diaphanous glow.

'Healing chakra,' he thought. It looked so different from what he was in command of. He tightened a fist, the soreness jarring his memory. That's right, it was only just moments ago that his hands were edged with red, he thought.

But this, this soothing, cooling light was so different. He hadn't paid much attention while she healed the men in camp. It was quick, methodical work; now she took her time. Moving hands over her throat effortlessly, fluidly, her fingers swayed slightly as if guided by some unseen current. The purpling marks on her arm, the ones he'd inflicted, had been washed away completely. Katsuro could only imagine the same type of restorative healing was going on underneath the surface.

The kunoichi leaned her head back against the wall, ran fingers over the column of her neck, then tipped her head to the side. A glowing hand slid up, brushed past her jawline, and carefully followed the curve of her neck just below her ear.

Pink hair fell away, and Katsuro narrowed his eyes.

Exposed there, marring that impossibly pale skin, were more angry red lines — but these were in the shape of fingers.

The girl's hand covered it momentarily, the length of her neck saturated in that translucent green, and when she slid her hand back down to her throat, the marks were gone.

Katsuro knew he should feel better, she was healed and no damage was done, but the unexpected tightness in his stomach didn't relent.

The light around her hand was softening, fading away. The kunoichi rolled her head back upright and let her hand fall to her lap, the glow of chakra gone completely. Eyes closed, shoulders rising and falling slowly with her breathing, the medic seemed to be taking a break from the healing process. A breeze ruffled the tendrils around her neck.

Katsuro drew in a breath, and pushed the door open.

Plunking down a small bucket of water in front of her, he returned to his spot and passed her the ladle.

She forced down a small sip and grimaced. It took a few swallows to test her healing before she could whisper a raspy, "thank you."

"What were you thinking?" he said shaking his head, anger seeping into his voice at the unbidden memory of red streaks on her otherwise perfect neck. "Did you think they wouldn't notice?"

She closed her eyes. New tears slipped out uncontrollably at the harsh edge in his voice.

"Stop," he said, instead of 'sorry.' He didn't mean to hurt her more, but he just couldn't put it into words. "Finish healing yourself," he added quietly, motioning to her other hand.

She rotated her head gingerly against the wall to look down at her other unhealed hand, still crisscrossed with red and purple lines.

"No," she said softly, moving her head back and closing her eyes. "That will heal. I need to reserve my chakra."

He scoffed and leaned his head back too. Chakra saved seemed pointless to him. Better to be burned off fighting and live to see another day, he thought.

The breathing beside him grew deep, and he thought she might be falling asleep there against the wall. But before he could decide whether or not to move her to the floor, her eyelids fluttered open and her breathing returned to its staccato.

"I don't feel so good," she uttered after a moment. "My head...." she said, reaching back to touch the incredibly sore, swollen area beneath her hair.

Katsuro just watched her, unsure of what to do, her green eyes more glassy and dull than he'd ever seen them.

"I think," she continued, "I think I might have a small concussion. I can't be sure," she trailed off drowsily then came back around. "I probably shouldn't rest just yet."

Brown eyes blinked at her.

"Um, OK," was all he could think to say while he waited for her to do...well, to do whatever it was medic nins do.

"Talk to me," she said turning her head to look at him, "just tell me about yourself."

"Huh?" was all he could manage, confusion plastered across his face.

She swallowed thickly and fixed languid eyes on him. "I need to stay awake for a little while."

Katsuro was surprised, but understood her request. He tried to order his thoughts into something coherent. He would rather have been sent down the mountain to fetch a cure, but he'd try to do as she asked. Just enough to keep her awake, he thought.

"I, uh...there's nothing much to tell," he mumbled.

Katsuro sat forward and raked a hand through his hair.

"Really, I don't...." he stopped with a long sigh, then sat back and pulled his knees up.

"I mean, I haven't...." he trailed off, stealing a glance at her. She was already asleep again.

"Hey, hey...." he rocked her shoulder gently. She woke momentarily, but was beginning to doze again.

"This isn't working," he said, shaking her shoulder, becoming concerned. "Tell me about yourself."

He turned to face her, pulling her away from the wall a bit in an attempt to keep her awake. She sat still, eyes half open, but didn't speak. He had the disconcerting feeling that she was looking at him but didn't really see him. He reached quickly for the water.

Katsuro was beginning to feel the first real throngs of panic, that something may be seriously wrong with her.

'Fuck,' he thought, 'I'm gone five minutes and this happens.'

"Here, have some water," he said, pushing the scoop into her hands. She accepted it instinctively and took a few sips.

Much to his relief she revived a bit. He wouldn't waste the opportunity to get her talking — he didn't want her falling asleep again.

"Tell me about yourself, your home, things you like, anything," he said quickly, scooting closer and looking intently into her face.

She rubbed her hand across her forehead and muttered "yeah," trying to organize her fuzzy thoughts.

"Tell me about someplace you like to go," he said again, trying to prompt her into talking. He didn't think he could wake her again a second time.

Rubbing her eyes, she began, "There is a bridge," but stopped with a sigh. The kunoichi took another sip of water before starting again.

"There is a bridge," she said, "over the river that runs through the center of Konoha. I used to walk there with my parents when I was young, and we would throw bread over to feed the ducks." She smiled wearily, eyes closing. "I always liked that bridge," she said with a long exhale.

Katsuro hummed in appreciation.

"What color is it?" he said quickly.

"What?" she asked, opening her eyes, unsure of what he was asking about.

"The bridge. What color is it?" he said.

"Oh. Red," she supplied.

"Keep going," he pushed her. "Where else do you like to go in your village?"

She sleepily told him about a sandy bank below the bridge where the fishers sat; a tiny park tucked between a few buildings where a single tree grew; a flat field beside their training grounds where flowers bloomed.

When she began to flag, Katsuro would ask her to fill in the picture with a little more detail: stray cats gravitated to the fisher's spot below the bridge and were always eager for a scratch on the head; she liked to sit under the tree in the park and read during the summer months; the blossoms in the field were yellow and only lasted about a week each spring, but it was beautiful. She looked forward to it every year.

He prompted her for a long time, heedless of the lengthening shadows on the mountainside, the orange light clinging to the edge of the old stone window.

He was unable to fight the allure of the serene images she painted, scenes which clashed horribly with his own experiences of village life. This tranquil world was foreign to him, and he listened just as intently as he had earlier when she explained the old folk tale. In fact he was even more fascinated because these places were real, and they were connected to her. And through her, they connected to him.

But eventually even his coaxing could not keep her awake. Her eyelids fluttered tiredly in the grey light. She stopped him, saying she was "just too tired," and he frowned a little in disappointment. He had forgotten about her injury.

"It's okay," she said, mistaking his expression for that of medical concern, and ran a hand absently over the back of her head. "I'm okay. I think I can rest now," she said.

She turned a fraction and lay directly down on her side on the old floor, her face smooth against the cold, stone tiles. Moving the water, he scooted away to give her a little more room. She was asleep almost instantly.

Katsuro sat back and looked at her sleeping form, thinking about the awful twist of events that brought them down there. The tranquil images of her village were obliterated by the scene which greeted him at the top of the stairs.

Seeing her, pinned against the wall and struggling for air, sent him into a fury. He roared at them to put her down, but it only moved in slow motion. Their stammered excuses, the fist he leveled at the biggest man, sending him flying into a column, the rest of them scattering like mice.

The surge of chakra, scalding across his chest, struggling to break free, surprised him. His vision bled crimson. He wanted to kill them, he felt it in his bones. He knew they felt it too.

'Good,' he thought, remembering the fear in their eyes as he demanded an explanation.

He forced the hellish chakra down as he moved across the room to collect her, deciding immediately to separate her from the rest of the group and their festering resentment.

But hours later, his anger was still fresh. He caught sight of the red scrapes tearing down the backs of her knees, glaringly out of place even in the dim light of early evening. He grit his teeth and turned away.

She was his responsibility, that had been made abundantly clear before he left. This whole damn mission was his responsibility, he thought darkly, flicking a stone across the room. But he didn't expect that his squad would try to kill their hostage. Or that their hostage, he thought with a sigh, would be so much trouble.

She certainly was full of surprises, he thought as he rose to leave the room. Katsuro quietly closed the door behind him and created a clone to fetch some firewood, but he didn't like the looks of this one and changed his mind about the task.

"Stay there and guard the door. Don't move. Understand?" Katsuro said in a threatening tone. The clone only rolled his eyes.

'He'll have to do, and I'll only be gone a minute,' thought Katsuro, as he padded back across the long, dark room to gather wood from the floor below.

He trotted down the steps, thinking about her. The medic-nin had been pretty sneaky, he didn't suspect it of her. She was naive, though, to think that she'd get away with hurting a bunch of battle-tough thugs, suspicious of every move.

He arrived at a hole in the wall where an ancient tree had toppled into the structure. It's dead limbs were scattered all over the tiles, and made gathering dry wood an easy chore.

Rearranging an armful of limbs, he thought back over the last few days. The men had watched her at camp and targeted her on their trek up the mountain. He simply did not see what was coming. They had lain in wait for a moment to pounce, and he provided it for them.

'Bastards,' he thought, snapping a particularly thick branch. They would take their revenge on her and ruin his mission, killing two birds with one stone.

But his anger went beyond their traitorous actions. There was nothing new there. Those men were always trying to take him down. They hated him, and the feeling was mutual. No, there was something else bothering him. Something he couldn't quite put his finger on.

Finished with his task, Katsuro took the stairs two at a time with enough wood to last them for at least a few nights. He was almost at the door when he remember the clone he'd created.

"Dammit," he said into the apparently empty room. Raising two fingers from under the armload of wood, he dispersed the clone and was rewarded with a "pop" sound from somewhere out in the darkness of the long hall.

'Well, at least he didn't get far enough away to do any damage,' he thought, hooking his foot around the door to close it behind him. 'Unpredictable little shits,' he grumbled to himself.

Katsuro set to work on starting a fire. He fished a piece of flint out of his pocket, unstrapped the kunai from his thigh holster, and began the tedious job of flicking sparks onto the pile of twigs.

He continued to mull his actions with the soft ting-tinging of metal on rock.

It made him furious to see them hurt her, and he was unprepared for that. He just exploded. Katsuro closed his eyes on the scene replaying in his head. No, he had no answers for what had happened. He had just acted on instinct. And he knew his instincts very well.

Finally, a few sparks took hold, and the top-most twigs began to smolder. He puffed on the bright red embers, coaxing them to flame, then sat back beside the hearth to feed more sticks into the little fire.

There was just something about her that brought out an unusual response in him, he decided. Perhaps it was because they were so close in age. Or perhaps it was because she was a girl, although he'd almost forgotten about that fact. Almost.

He looked over at her sleeping form, still unmoving in the flickering orange light.

No, he thought, that pale little slip of neck hidden beneath her hair was most definitely girl. He blew out a breath and trained his eyes on the deep blue darkness filling the window above her.

He wished she would have told him, knowing full well that was an unreasonable thing to expect, that she would actually confess to her captor that she had fucked up the insides of the rest of his group.

She had fought back in the only way she knew how. She hadn't given up. He could admire that. She was tough. He fed some larger branches into the fire.

With a few battle skills, he thought, she'd probably be a force to be reckoned with. At least she could have defended herself against thugs like those men.

A little flare of anger ignited inside him again at Konoha, for sending someone like her out into the world only half-prepared. Those selfish villagers, only doing what's best for themselves. For all the beautiful scenery she related from her home, the people who'd trained her had obviously not seen fit to send her out into the shinobi world with the ability to properly defend herself.

More than that, they had thrown her to the wolves. He had never had a choice — they sealed his fate the moment he was born. But her, she believed in them, trusted that they would be there for her. Was probably still blindly hoping they would come after her.

Well her superiors acted true to form, didn't they, he thought, snatching up another stick. They paired her with a lethal teammate and left her to be the target. When she was no longer of use to their mission, she was simply discarded, just like trash.

'Just like me,' he thought, grinding his hand into a tight fist around the dry wood. It splintered easily in his hand.

This pink-haired girl was giving him completely new reasons to hate Konoha.

A familiar tightness slipped across his chest. The edges of his vision turned red. For the second time that day, the malevolent chakra locked inside him arced out in response to his anger.

He looked down at the soft fragments of wood in his hand and on his lap, and laughed at himself. He needed to calm down.

He checked quickly to make sure he had not woken the kunoichi up, but she was still unmoving. In the brighter light of the fire he could see goosebumps on her arms. Even though the room was warmer now, she was probably still cold from the floor, he thought. He needed to get some supplies from upstairs.

'A medic-nin who can't fight back. Yeah, she's a liability,' he thought, standing and brushing away the bits of wood and dust. She could easily be picked off by men like them. Men like him, he amended.

That thought didn't sit well with him. He didn't want to be the one who beat others down, he'd been on the receiving end of that for too long. He couldn't remember a time when there wasn't someone who wanted to see him fail. He frowned at that thought, but slipped the kunai back in it's holster.

No, maybe he could help her, show her a few things, he thought as quietly crossed the room. That way if she was hellbent on getting into scrapes with these jackals then at least she could get herself out again.

Opening the door, a long square of light stretched out across the main hall.

And just maybe, if he helped her, it would squelch that unnameable feeling, that twist in his gut, that thing that caused his power to surge and drove him to never want to see her hurt like that again.

He swung the door closed. Only a few streaks of orange light slanted onto the floor, but it was more than enough to find his way back again.

* * *

It wasn't until much later that a groggy Sakura roused from sleep, light filtering in through the window. She sat up slowly, the now familiar blankets pooling in her lap.

Her throat was sore, her head was tender, and everything stiff. She couldn't remember her chakra being this low before.

Sakura knew the healings, the exertions of the past few days would take a toll, but she never dreamed it would be this bad. And the beating she took simply pushed her body over the edge.

She slowly brushed her hair away from her face and tucked it behind her ears.

No, she thought, if she was honest with herself, she hadn't taken into account how much the stress, the fear, the doubt would eat into her ability to rejuvenate. She was still approaching this whole ordeal from a distance, as if it were a case study or a test in class.

'Yeah, well, textbooks don't cover the fear,' she thought. That was like carrying another wound altogether.

Trying to piece together the events of the previous day, she remembered only parts of the painful attack, but nothing further. Sakura could only surmise that the men had found out what she'd done when she'd healed them.

Looking around, she wondered absently if she had been abandoned or imprisoned here, locked away until they were ready to move again. It wouldn't surprise her.

She scanned the room for clues, but nothing pointed to captivity. Quite the opposite in fact: a blanket was rolled against the farthest wall, beside it was thrown a dusty rucksack, white-plated ashes smoked faintly in the tiny fireplace, and the whole room had a pleasant, singed smell to it. Beside the hearth was piled a small assortment of fruit and the water bucket. She looked for a lock on the door, but found it was opening instead. The answer to her question came bounding in, capped with a mop of unruly brown hair.

"Hey! Feeling better?" Katsuro asked, his mouth creeping up into a smile. He seemed genuinely glad to see her awake.

"Yes," the kunoichi croaked. Katsuro immediately passed her the wooden ladle with fresh, cold water.

"Thanks," she said, wiping her mouth.

"Do you remember anything?" he said, turning to gather up a few pieces of fruit, then sitting down beside her with the selection.

"Not much," she said quietly, choosing an orange. She turned it over and over in her hands, noticing that one hand was smooth while one still bore the angry marks from the leather ties.

He sat quietly too, watching her and waiting.

She stopped and looked out the window, squinting a bit. Her mood was distinctly sad, and her face looked drawn and tired in the morning light.

Katsuro decided to ease her burden.

Taking the orange from her hands to peel it for her, he chided quietly, "Next time, tell me what you plan on doing so at least I'll know what's coming down the pike." He paused, tore the orange in two and handed her a half. She silently accepted.

"Or...let me help you do it," he finished matter-of-factly, punctuating it with a brief grin.

Whatever she expected him to say, this wasn't it. She studied his face, and he returned her gaze nonchalantly, chewing the orange segments as he waited for her to process what he'd said.

Katsuro knew she was probably expecting some kind of recrimination from him, but he would issue none. He didn't want to explain himself either. He wasn't mad at her, they deserved what they got and had he been in her position he would have done the same thing. He just wanted to get past it, keep her alive and finish the mission, he told himself.

The kunoichi looked back down at the peeled fruit in her hands.

She wasn't sure if she could trust what he was saying, after all, he apparently knew what she had done to the members of his group. And though she knew there was no love lost there, they were still his teammates.

"I didn't intend to do a lot of harm, just make myself needed," she said honestly, not bothering to look up. "If you _need_ a medic nin, then you'll keep me alive longer."

"They deserved it," he reassured. "Eat your orange and don't worry about it.

"And if they come to you asking to be healed after yesterday, well, you tell them to come see me," he said, smiling wickedly.

Standing, Katsuro sprinkled a little water on the still-warm ashes.

"We'll stay down here for the rest of the time," he said, adding quietly, "I don't care what they do upstairs."

He turned to replace the ladle with the bucket when she noticed the back of his hand, a little swollen and clearly scabbed over. It definitely wasn't like that when they were hauling the water upstairs.

"Are you—" she stopped, unsure if she should say anything. He looked at her questioningly. "Your hand," she said, nodding to the scabs across the backs of his knuckles.

"What?" he said, turning his hand over. "Oh. I'm a fast healer, don't worry about me.

"But, I would like for you to finish healing your other hand, and your legs, and anything else that hurts. Don't reserve your chakra — I want you to heal yourself."

"Does that mean we'll be leaving soon?" she said quietly, thinking that he probably didn't want Itachi knowing about a situation like this.

He shook his head, picked up another orange and tossed it into the air before settling down against the opposite wall to peel it.

"No. Actually," he said, "I have some other plans."

Tearing off large sections of rind, Katsuro casually let a piece of information slip.

"Those men, upstairs? They aren't shinobi, you know," he said, eying her surreptitiously. He wanted to see her reaction. He suspected she didn't know. And if she didn't, she should have.

The kunoichi waited, barely breathing, feeling for all the world like she was caught in a trap. She knew some of them weren't, but she hadn't been able to size up all of their abilities. Another amateur mistake she was sure her teammates would never make.

"So, I'm interested...I want to see what passes for training in your village," he said with calculated carelessness.

But Sakura froze. This was to be her punishment, she thought. He was going to take her on himself. She cursed herself for allowing even a glimmer of trust.

"I want to know, if you are out here," he said, his tone growing deadly serious, "and you're a ninja from one of the most powerful villages around, and you can't tell the difference between a common thug and a trained shinobi, then what the hell did they teach you in that academy of yours?" He nearly spit out the word "academy" and clenched the half-peeled orange tightly in his fist for a moment.

Sakura turned away from him, anger warring with her shame at his very accurate remarks. She frowned deeply — but she absolutely would not respond to his provocations.

"You should have been able to handle them," he continued. "And if you've got that much control over your chakra," he waved airily at her hands, "that you can seal up a cut with your pinky finger, then you should have at least been able to land a punch on one of them."

He was mocking her. Anger won out, and it took nearly all of her self control not to yell right back at him, but the pounding in her head was increasing with her blood pressure.

"Like I said, you're a liability," he finished ungraciously. "And you're a liability I can't risk."

Words like "useless" and "burden" rang in her ears. Her breath caught in her chest.

Even an enemy nin could see it, she thought.

Disarmed completely, Sakura closed her eyes. The anger she had clung to for support simply evaporated.

She looked down again at her mismatched hands, thinking she'd like to cry but feeling the utter pointlessness of it. It was all pointless. You can heal physical wounds, but maybe some flaws never disappear, some things are never overcome.

She had always made mistakes, always fallen behind. Her two teammates were geniuses, the prodigy and the automaton. They were well suited to each other: both killers, both silent as the tomb. They all received excellent training, but Sakura alone couldn't keep up. Her movements were slower, less self-assured. She had flourished as a beginning medic, and always thought the rest would fill in eventually. But maybe she was wrong about that too....

It seemed that no matter how hard she tried, it just wasn't enough.

And this stupid boy in front of her could have no knowledge of that, yet here he was accurately summing her up after just a few days. His words were a little less mean, but just the same: A target. A liability. A dead weight. She shook her head at this terrible introspection. It must be true, she thought.

"Well, we have several more days together," Katsuro said as he stood up, "and I'm not going to fail this mission. If they are going to try to come after you every time I've got my back turned, then you're going to need to fight back."

He knew she couldn't take him, but at least she could fight off some low-level lackeys who thought nothing of destroying them both. He wasn't about to share that little piece of dissenting information with her, though.

Gathering up the orange and rest of the peels, Katsuro frowned at her change in demeanor. He expected some kind of retort, but she looked like she was about to curl up into a ball. He stood quietly, and folded his arms over his chest. He understood.

He hadn't intended to beat her down, but he told her the painful truth. Looking down at the top of her head, Katsuro sighed as he came to realize something else about her: Even with as much trouble as she had caused, he discovered he actually preferred her fighting spirit to the defeated attitude she projected now.

He walked back over, lightening his tone to goad her a little.

"If you're a _real_ ninja, then I want to see what you can do," he said with a grin, but she didn't respond. Katsuro stood beside her quietly.

A sudden thought occurred to him, and he zinged her: "Did you actually go to academy, or was it just some kind of first-aid training class?"

She looked up finally at that one. The indignation that flitted across her face before she sputtered out "Of course I went to academy!" was the response he'd hoped for. He looked at her eyes for a moment, clear and leaf-green, and sparkling with irritation. It was a welcome change from last night.

Her anger brought a smile to his face.

Katsuro set down the peeled orange at her side, leaving it rocking gently on an extra large piece of rind, and turned to leave.

"Eat your orange, then heal yourself as much as you can," he said good-naturedly from the doorway. "Get some more rest if you need to. I won't go easy on you, but we won't start till you're ready." He closed the door behind him and was gone again.

Sakura rubbed her eyes. Fatigue was setting in. The whole thing was confusing and exhausting. She quietly ate the orange he'd peeled for her and thought over what he'd said, his statements hurtful and his attitude confounding. What had he meant? She finished her fruit and tried to align her thoughts through the quickly encroaching drowsiness. Was he going to pummel her once she regained her strength?

None of it made sense. She shut it all out and slid back under the cover, pulling it over her eyes to block out the light that was causing her head to pound even more.

* * *

Sakura awoke again at dusk, confused at the dim light and stiff from laying still for so long. She rubbed her eyes. Outside the window, blue patches in the treetops were fading to grey.

She looked around the room wearily, conversations and events of the past two days running together in her mind. Beside her was a small dish with rice and a bit of meat, but she didn't eat it yet. She was just glad to have some time alone.

Sakura pushed the blankets back to examine the abrasions on her legs. These would be the easiest to heal and require the least amount of chakra. Starting there first, she sheathed her fingertips in light, and ran a hand over the long scrapes, massaging the cells underneath to regenerate a little more quickly. When she finished with one leg, she switched hands to work on the other, noticing a stiffness in her other hand.

She had forgotten the wound from the previous day — or was it days? — she felt like she had been asleep more than she had been awake. She examined her hand and arm, the welts now faded to pink strips, her wrist stiff but not as swollen as it had been. But inside her arm, almost at the fold of her elbow, the strip of skin worn away by the bindings was already healed over with newer, darker skin.

'Great,' she thought. 'Too late to keep it from scarring.'

She stopped herself, shaking her head ruefully at her own vanity.

"As if any of that matters now," she muttered to herself. Here she was, worrying about scar tissue, when she didn't even know if she would survive this ordeal. She clutched her arm, and distractedly ran her thumb over the new skin while she thought. Home was feeling more and more out of reach for her.

Sakura didn't know precisely how long she'd been gone, but she did know it was more than enough time for them to track her, and her sensei was one of the best trackers around. She didn't want to think about why no one had come for her. Maybe they couldn't find her up here, she thought lamely. Maybe. She just didn't know.

Doubt crept in. Maybe they weren't coming for her, she thought. Maybe it was as he had said, they had truly abandoned her. It wasn't Konoha policy as she knew it, but there was no denying that no sign of them had been felt for days.

But, casting around desperately for some reasoning to cling to, she thought it was also fact that as long as they were holed up in this mountaintop temple, she was safe from whatever fate Itachi had planned for her. That was something, at least, she thought. Maybe she could use the time to prepare a plan for their way back down. Heal herself, regain her strength, then make a break for it once they left. It made her feel better just to have a ghost of hope in the darkness, even if it was self made.

Sakura healed her still-injured hand, then finished tending to the abrasions on her other leg. She ran her fingers absently over her throat, checking its progress, then prodded the tender spot on the back of her head, satisfied that the swelling had mercifully dropped.

Scooping out water and taking up the bowl of rice, Sakura returned to sit in the window and watch the dying light wash over the forest while she ate. She must have found some measure of peace, because her thoughts and fears finally quieted. Either that or it was extreme exhaustion, she chuckled to herself. At any rate, for the moment, she felt okay. And that was a monumental achievement, she thought.

Though she hadn't been up for very long, sleep tugged on her weary body. As a medic-nin, she knew this was the limit her body could take, functioning as both doctor and patient.

Sakura slipped back under the covers and turned her face to watch the deepening shadows creep through the treetops, until the first truly restful sleep fell over her.

_

* * *

Coming up: Chapter 8 - Struggles and Triumphs_

_Rubbing his chin gingerly, Katsuro eyed the girl with astonishment. She stared him down, cracking her knuckles._

_"Ready for another?" she said, grinning ruthlessly._

_"No," he said laughing. She responded with a laugh too, then extended her hand._

**

* * *

Author's notes:** Thanks to the reviewers who helped me come to some decision! I will be adding an abridged author's notes to the end of each chapter. This week, I'll add notes to the first six chapters on ff, then I'll put full author's notes on a secondary site. (These are straight from the notes I'm keeping for myself, but it occurred to me that maybe other people would like to read them. It's rife with spoilers, but if you'd like to peek over my shoulder as I'm writing, be my guest! Look under my profile later this week for the link.)

Fun stuff ahead. I hope you enjoy reading this as much as I do writing it! Please read and review!

**Chapter notes:** This chapter moved Sakura and Katsuro/Naruto to a place where they can rely on each other. Sakura has to trust Katsuro and let go of her belief that her "team" is coming to get her. Katsuro has to trust her, learn that there is something else than working together just to survive. It's something he's never experienced before. So for a bond to be established, they have to be physically separated from the rest of his group. Only then they can begin to move ahead as the teammates they've never had. Hopefully I've gotten them to that point at the end of this chapter.

Katsuro's Clones — Okay, Katsuro has some troubles with his clones! I took Naruto's "unpredictable" element and crammed his clones full of it. So now, he's got this great power, this ability to use massive amounts of clones, but it comes at a price. I'll go into it much later, but it has to do with Kyuubi's chakra mixing in and making them a little wily. It can happen even with one, so Katsuro never knows what he's going to get; but he knows the more he makes, the more squirrelly they get.

Katsuro's kunai from a thigh holster — think Kakashi, leaf nin outfits. He's got the same. I can't remember if it's mentioned in a previous chapter, but just to make sure you understand what he's wearing. Basically any clothing or Naruto-specific thing I'm going to try to pull from the manga as closely as I can so that you, kind reader, have an easy picture of what I'm describing. As a reader myself, I don't like getting hung up on ultra-descriptive clothing, hair, etc. Now scenery, that's another story.... :)

Thanks so much for the reviews. I'm really glad you're enjoying the story! It is very reassuring to know that the pace is going over ok. It's definitely slower than most, but I just want to make sure I develop the characters fully. I want it to be believable, as well as enjoyable. And I'm also glad you like my portrayal of Naruto — I'm going for more ninja, less knucklehead! So thank you, thank you, thank you!

_Witchymage_, you've noticed so much! You're right about him feeling a little guilty — I want to show his affection for her developing in ways other than outright love, like how he deals with her when he's angry, and later in the ways that he changes because of her. Hopefully, some of the background info in this chapter and the upcoming ones will fill in Naruto/Katsuro's picture. _Animemistress_, full chapter notes coming soon! If only you read them, then I'll be perfectly happy! _Kungfu and Cupcake_, I am so glad you thought the painting scene was romantic and intimate. It was meant to be tender, and there is more coming next chapter!!


	8. Struggles and Triumphs, Part 1

Chapter 8 — Struggles and Triumphs

Rubbing his chin gingerly, Katsuro eyed the girl with astonishment. She stared him down, cracking her knuckles.

"Ready for another?" she said with a ruthless grin.

"No," he said laughing. She laughed too, then extended her hand. She gave him a glittering smile as she pulled him up off the ground, hair flipping around her face.

Later, over the fresh fruit he'd managed to haul from the food stores upstairs, she was still glowing from her accomplishment.

"Thanks," she said earnestly. Her cheeks were still flushed and that smile had yet to leave her face.

"Yeah," Katsuro said with a breathy chuckle.

He didn't know who felt better.

The past several days had been a whirlwind of struggles and triumphs.

* * *

Almost as soon as the girl was on the road to recovery, Katsuro made good on his resolution to teach her a few self-defense moves. He began scouting out areas to spar. Well lit, not too dusty. Flat, not falling apart.

Turned out, the one with the tree poking through the wall was the best lit. While she slept, he was was free to use any of his power without fear of discovery. So he made a passel of clones to dismantle the top of the tree and pile the rest of the wood along the wall, and it did open up quite a bit of light into the room. But it came at a price.

Katsuro didn't know how it started, but he looked up just in time to see a brown-haired clone curse and haul back a log to knock down another clone. The rest had left their tasks behind to watch the fight. A few jostled their neighbors for a better view. Katsuro knew where this was going. Before long they'd all be fighting, and then there would be a bigger mess to clean up than before they started.

"Get to work," he yelled at them, "or you're all going away!"

The one with the big limb raised over his head stopped mid-swing to yell back at his maker.

"You can't do that!" the clone said. He was going to say something else, but was cut off when his opponent barreled into his stomach, knocking him backwards into a few more clones. It was a pile of arms, legs and identical brown heads.

Katsuro stood, shaking his head at them. He rubbed a hand distractedly over the tugging ache at his midsection. It's like this every time, he thought.

One clone crawled out from underneath the dogpile and was raising his fist at Katsuro.

"Come on! I can take you! Don't underestimate—" but he didn't get to finish.

Katsuro dispersed them all. Branches thudded to the ground amid the popping noises. When the smoke cleared, he was glad to see they'd managed to get about half the work done before they rebelled. He quickly finished clearing up the rest of the wood, enjoying the quiet.

* * *

After another few days of her recuperation, he felt like she was well enough to begin a little training. He wanted to find out more about her skill level, and was curious about her chakra control. If it was as strong as he suspected, he couldn't understand why she didn't use it to fight.

But he would bring all of that up in the morning. Tonight, he had other things on his mind.

"Do you read a lot?" Katsuro blurted out from under his blanket, breaking the silence of the room.

"Huh?" she answered. The surprise was clearly written on her face even in the dim firelight.

"You like to read?" he said again.

"Yeah, I guess," she said, not sure at all where he was going with this.

"You told me you liked to read, when you were first, you know, knocked out," he said, not realizing the jumble his words were making.

"What? Why would I be talking about that?" She turned under her blanket to look at him, trying to determine whether he was teasing her or not. She must have really been addled, she thought.

"You told me things to keep yourself awake when we first got down here," he said seriously. She looked a little horrified at the idea. "You don't remember?"

"No," was all she could manage. She didn't know what "things" she could have said, but it didn't sound good.

He rolled on his back and sighed. He wanted her to talk about herself a little more, although he wouldn't admit it to her, and maybe she would throw in some more descriptions of that strange tranquil life she led, although he wouldn't admit it to himself.

"You said you liked to sit under a tree in a little park, a park with buildings all around it, and that you liked to read there. I wondered what you liked to read," he said nonchalantly, hoping he didn't sound too interested.

"Oh," she said, understanding smoothing the wrinkles off her brow. He turned to face her again when it seemed she would continue. "Well, I mostly read academy text books, then when I began my med-nin training it was mostly scrolls from our library. Pretty boring stuff really," she said.

"But it's a nice place to read," she added as an afterthought.

"Oh," he said quietly, half hoping she would continue. When she didn't, he ventured a piece of information forward.

"You know, there is a scroll room here, or there was," he said. "It's mostly all gone now, but there are a few old scrolls left in the corner. I could show them to you tomorrow."

She would have been suspicious had his voice held the least tone of, well, anything. But as it was, he just sounded like any other kid who stumbled over his words. She was so used to his self-confidence and commanding presence, that she had forgotten that they were really the same age. Across from her, brown eyes held a measure of something child-like. He was waiting for her answer, unsure but hopeful.

She decided to take his words at face value.

"Ok," Sakura answered slowly.

They were silent again for a while, until Sakura decided to repay his kindness with a few questions of her own.

"What about you? Do you like to read?" she prodded.

"Me? No," he said shaking his head. Sakura laughed, taken somewhat aback at his vehemence to reading.

"Not like we had a library in camp," he laughed.

"So you grew up in a camp, and not in a village?" she said. She was trying not to sound to eager herself, but she was not about to let that scrap of information pass unnoticed.

His open expression closed immediately, transformed into a calculating smirk. He saw right through her.

She just smiled pleasantly back, unphased at his change in attitude. She knew what she was doing too, even if she wasn't as adept as he was.

He snorted a little, shook his head and rolled over under his blanket to face the wall.

"I'll take you to see the scrolls tomorrow," he said. She could hear the smile in his voice. She laughed at that, then turned away from him to sleep.

* * *

They padded softly down the steps in the morning light.

"How is you're healing going?" he called back to her tentatively. "Are you feeling better?"

"Yes, much better," she said.

"Good," Katsuro's voice floated around the curved wall.

He had wanted to begin sparring with her today, had hoped to, but wasn't sure how to broach it. He didn't want to order her to fight. He wanted to test her skills, see what she was good at and what she wasn't.

It sure wasn't how he was treated, he thought, stopping finally at a decrepit old door, but he didn't think he could do that with her, put her into a bad situation and tell her to fight her way out. If he had to name it, then he guessed he wanted her to trust him.

He pushed hard, and on the second shove the door swung slowly open.

This floor was more of a broken off ledge than a recognizable room. Whatever had fallen away from the building had done the most damage here.

And true enough, there were some fragments of scrolls in a corner, as well as what looked like oddly-shaped, metal bowls. But they were huge.

The pair carefully made their way across the crumbling floor, sticking as close to the wall as possible. Below them and above them, floors and walls jutted out to various lengths. It made Sakura feel like she was standing in a layer of a giant cake.

She carefully unrolled one of the brittle scrolls. In the centermost layers there was enough protection to preserve some fragments of writing. Expecting to find a historical or religious text, the kunoichi was surprised to find a clear musical notation among the unfamiliar writing.

Beside her Katsuro was rocking one of the curved fragments with his toe, when he realized what it was.

"Oh! It's a bell," he declared, and squatted to examine the remains of an intricate floral design etched into the outside of the bell shape. "It must have been huge," he said finally.

Sakura agreed. She looked up the crumbling side of the building again then swept her eyes back down the rock-strewn mountainside.

"Could this have been an enormous bell tower?" she said. "Maybe that's what all the boulders are from."

Katsuro shrugged, then left the rusted metal to look over her shoulder.

"What's in the scrolls?" he asked.

In her hands, the document was fragmenting before she could even roll it back up.

"Some musical notes, not much else is left though," she said, then returned the pieces to it's corner.

"Huh," he said deflatedly. "Well, I have someplace else to show you, too. Come on," he beckoned, and they carefully picked their way back to the stairwell.

Climbing a few more stairs, he came to a stop at another inconspicuous door and slowly pushed it open.

Behind it was another broad hall, just like all the rest, but this one was flooded with light from a massive hole in the wall.

The kunoichi walked slowly to the middle of the room, looking around for the object he wanted her to see. Finding none, she turned back to him with a questioning expression.

"Hold out your hands," he said. She silently held them out in front of her.

"Good. Now show me how you surround them in healing chakra."

She did as he asked, not sure where this was going but not finding any harm in it. Her hands glowed as if plunged in the middle of two green orbs.

"Good," he said again. "Now take all of that light and line your fingers with it. You know, the way you focus it into your fingertips? But this time, curl it over the backs of your fingers."

She turned her hands over, and they both watched as the pale green light amassed over her knuckles, turning a shade deeper as it coalesced.

"Make a fist," he said, attention fixed on her hands.

She did. The amorphous light molded itself around her fingers, covering the backs of her knuckles ominously.

"Yeah," he said with a throaty laugh. He was right. It would deliver a wallop of a punch and protect her hands at the same time.

He took a step back and turned a shoulder to her, holding his forearm as if making a muscle.

"Now, punch me as hard as you can, with your fist just like that," he said, bracing for the blow.

Whatever he was expecting, she did not deliver. It still was as light as a bare-knuckled punch. He should have at least been knocked off balance.

He smacked the outside of her arm as it retracted, causing her elbow to wobble unsteadily.

"Do it again," he said. She came at him a little harder, but not much. It was still very loose. He was not going to let this go, though.

"You fight like you're in a staged match," he needled her. "You're waiting to see how I will respond. Don't wait."

He nodded for her to come at him again and braced for another punch, but this time she didn't move.

He had to think of another way to get her going.

"Come on, I want you to punch me. I want to see what you've got," he said with a half-smile. "Here's your chance, you can beat the hell out of me."

"This is what you brought me her for?" she said angrily.

Frowning, she folded her arms over her chest, refusing to hit him. Even if she had to bury her fists under her arms to keep them in place, she wasn't going to do what he asked.

Katsuro laughed in spite of her anger. He forgot, she was expecting scrolls or some other moldy, old thing. He'd probably think it was a trap too if someone set him up like this.

"Nothing's going to happen," he reassured, "I want you to do this."

But she didn't move. She wouldn't even look at him now. He tried to explain a little of what he felt to her.

"I think you've been trained to be a good little ninja, staying in the lines and not thinking about how desperate everyone else is. How willing they are to kill you before you can kill them," he said. She wasn't leaving, at least, so he knew she was listening. He pressed that advantage.

"You have to size up your opponent accurately, make choices that will help you live longer. This isn't something you learn from a book or put into action in an arena," he said. She pursed her lips together, but he was undaunted.

"You were on the right track, using your medical skills to inflict hidden damage. But your mistake was not sizing up your victims, your patients," he said with a grin. "You should have continued to treat them as hostile threats, even more than before."

He rubbed a hand over his chin, thinking.

"You should have identified which one was going to come after you first — and stayed away from him — then picked off your easiest target," he said with a smile. But her fierce expression slipped.

'This was the same strategy he used to single me out,' she thought, looking down at the ground. The green glow around her knuckles flickered.

Katsuro realized something he'd said must have gotten her down.

'Her face is almost an open book,' he thought with a sigh. Another area she'd need to control if she wanted to protect herself.

Watching her, eyes distant, shoulders softened, face partially-concealed by limp hanks of hair, she was a picture of dejection. He wanted to wipe it away.

He wanted to see that spark, that fire, the one that pushed her up the mountain, drove her to foil her captors, led her to whip her teammate. He'd have to ask her about that, he thought with a small grin.

She seemed to flourish when the odds were stacked against her. He wondered if he could provoke her a little more into fighting.

"Yeah," he said looking at her challengingly. "I picked you. I separated you from your group. You were clearly the weakest. I bet none of this even helps," he said, waving his hand grandly. Lying. "I bet you still couldn't land a punch on me."

She dropped her fists at her sides, but didn't move. He slowly circled around, kicking her foot as he passed, hoping he'd provoked her enough to really come at him. Put her heart into it.

Her cheeks were pink, and her fists were tight, but she wasn't moving.

"I bet you turned to that medic business because you were afraid everyone would see you weren't cut out to be a ninja. That you were in over you're head," he said from behind her. She still wasn't taking the bait though. He had to do a more.

Leaning in close over her shoulder, he made a personal dig.

"It's a big, bad world out there." He reached a hand up to graze the tips of her hair, thinking he'd give her a clear shot just to get the ball rolling. He figured that once she got started, she wouldn't stop.

"Pretty little pink-haired girls should never leave their safe, little villages," he said. He stayed close as he completed the circle, face next to hers, voice low and intimate. "Isn't that what your teammates think...um...Ino-chan?" It took him a moment to remember her name.

If she didn't want to fight him after this crap, he thought, then she must be made of stone.

A low guttural growl ripped from her throat as she lunged towards him, a fist going straight for his face. He drew back in a rush to avoid the blow, but she had another one to follow it up with.

'Good,' he thought, getting his bearings after a few more blasts.

Then he began in earnest, blocking her punches, trying to find openings as well. Anything less would be disrespectful.

* * *

They worked and worked that day and the next. Nearly to exhaustion. He was tired from blocking relentless blows, and she was tired from holding her chakra so tightly at her knuckles.

But Sakura felt good.

Sometimes she hated that mop of brown hair, those dancing brown eyes, forever taunting and encouraging her.

Other times, when she'd fire off a particularly swift punch, something that he wasn't expecting, she would see another side of him.

Her success was his as well.

She couldn't quite shake the concern that he would find some way to seek retribution, seeing as she and he were from opposing forces. But anytime she nearly clocked him with her fist, he'd always give her a little shout of encouragement. Never anger, never revenge.

She'd scan his face for a sign of some other more sinister plan, but all she could find was the happy crinkle at the corner of his eyes.

So she let go, and accepted his help at face value. Maybe he wanted to see her succeed after all. He seemed to be having a good time, and she couldn't deny she wasn't. Who wouldn't have a good time trying to knock the daylights out of someone your own age, she thought with a smile before winding up to deliver another blow.

He smiled back at her in response. Her color was high, and she looked like she was working hard, but having fun.

He was enjoying it too. Truly. What had begun as just a few defensive moves, with the intention to keep herself alive, was quickly turning into something more. Why stop at survival? She should be able to prevail over any enemy.

He backflipped neatly away from her oncoming attack. He had never known anything like this, never spent any time with someone just sparring for fun. Any fighting he had ever done was to survive, not to improve.

She didn't pursue him farther, instead letting him slip out of her reach. She put her hands on her knees and panted. He stopped for a much-needed break too.

It was alluring to think of her as someone equal with him, someone to train with, he thought. He wanted to continue.

"Do you want to try it with chakra enhanced kicks?" he ventured, after both of them had caught their breath.

"Hell yeah!" she said, eyes bright, sweaty spikes of hair clinging to her neck. He laughed at her, and she laughed too at her own enthusiasm. They were both enjoying themselves.

* * *

After a grueling day of chakra laden kicks, both retired to the little room, sweaty and exhausted.

But there was another burden weighing on Katsuro that night. Something about her battle skills troubled him. No matter how aggressive she was with her punches, he didn't know if she could really protect herself if the time came.

She had the most training in saving lives. He wondered if she'd ever taken one.

"No," she said quietly, as she settled herself under her blanket for the night. "My sensei did, right in front of us, on a bridge. But I didn't. I did land a few punches there, though."

"Good," he said reflexively, but continued right on. "Do you think you could? Kill someone?"

"I guess...Yeah. I would if I had to," she said.

"If you had to..." he repeated her slowly, sitting down atop his own blanket. "And how long would it take you to figure that out? If you 'had to' or not?" he said. His tone was somewhere between a question and a taunt. She wasn't sure how to respond.

"Would you know right away or would you need to size up your opponent in battle first?" he asked her seriously.

She didn't want to answer that one. He wasn't taunting, but she was pretty sure her response would be the opposite of his. He could guess it too.

"Forget your village and your teammates. If you're standing in front of men like that," he pointed a finger straight up, to the men still lazing upstairs, "do you think they're going to give you even five seconds to look them over, size them up, come to some decision about who they are and what they want?"

He shook his head slowly, never taking his eyes off her face, and began filling in the scenario.

"They know who they are. They know what they want. And they are going to tear you apart," he said. His tone chilled her to the core. "No one is coming to save you. You have to save yourself."

The silence pressed down on her. His words were dreadful. And true.

Katsuro shifted his foot against the blanket.

"Could you kill someone then?" he said.

"Yes," she answered quietly. He nodded.

She understood now. It was a harsh way of getting his point across, but if she were to ever run into any of those men upstairs someplace else, she should expect that they were going to try to kill her, not wait for an introduction.

She frowned at another thought.

"But what about you? You're with them," she said, thumbing up to the floors upstairs. "So why are you different?"

He blinked a few times, thinking about it. He shrugged finally.

"Well, I guess I'm like you then," he said with a half-smile. "I don't want to kill someone if I don't have to, either."

He picked up a rounded pebble and turned it over and over in his hand, thinking. He looked back to her seriously, brown eyes seeking her out.

"But sometimes there isn't a choice. You can't just back away. You have to fight your way out, because _they_ want to take _you_ down."

She felt he was talking about both of them now. She needed to protect herself, and perhaps he was speaking from his own experience. Maybe he'd always faced people who wanted to 'take him down,' so he was self-protective all the time.

She pulled her blanket up with a grumble, not wanting to tell him that it was a terrible burden to carry. Thinking everyone in the world was out to get you.

He laughed at her. He understood her well enough now to know that she was turning away because she had a different opinion, or just plain didn't believe him.

"Just remember, if you get caught in a bad situation, assume the worst," he said, dropping the stone and crawling under the cover. "Do what you have to do to get out of it. Just survive."

"Words to live by. Treat everyone like they're going to kill you," she said sarcastically, turning on her side to face the wall.

"It's not all bad," he said, turning on his side to face her. "Sometimes people surprise you."

He retrieved the pebble from the floor and lobbed it gently at her back. Never turning, she just chuckled and pulled a hand out from under the blanket to mockingly swat over her side at him. He laughed and watched her back, thinking how nice this was. This strange little harmony they had. Like he'd caught hold of something special.

* * *

They sparred continuously, filling the days with training, evenings with talking.

Her balance and chakra control proved to be exceptional. He was by no means an expert, but since his life hung by how well he summed up his opponent, he knew she would be formidable in battle.

She still had some openings, but the one he most worried about now was her ability to deceive, to hide her reactions and intentions. He could read her so easily. And that could get her killed.

The kunoichi swung a fist at his face, followed by a roundhouse kick. Both chakra laden, both deadly.

Heaving a breath and on the defensive, Katsuro took a step back and fired off a question.

"The men upstairs, they caught you unaware, but even then you should have been able to take them. Your fear got the upper hand," he said. He let her come in a little closer, trying to distract her, continuing to question her all the while. "So when you protected those children, were you afraid or were you faking it there?"

She thought a moment about an answer, losing her pace. Katsuro took advantage of the weakness and swung a leg out to sweep her off her feet.

She hopped with a squeak, realizing his intention, and came after him with vigor. She understood, he wanted her to fight and talk.

"No. Not like you mean," she said through gritted teeth. She swung again, trying to keep him from getting the upper hand. "I knew what I had to do. I was afraid for them, but not for me."

A green glow streaked through the air in front of him. He smiled, dodging her punch. She was so different, her answers never ceased to surprise him, he thought again.

"Good," he said, looking for an opening when she retracted. He found it, connecting his fist with her rib cage. "But it was still a stupid thing to do," he added quickly.

It wasn't enough to knock the wind out of her, but they both knew he'd found a weak spot. An assailant could have killed her with that opening. She regrouped in silence, watching him move into a defensive stance, and mulled over what the difference was in her fear of the men, and her distinct lack of fear at the merchant's cart.

She got ready to charge him again, kicked back a foot for a more stability and pulsed the chakra at her fists. She had excellent control now, and knew how to use it. The chakra at her knuckles was as compact and brilliant as glowing jade rings. She advanced in a blur.

"I had a reason to do it, something to protect. I couldn't fail. They were relying on me. That's the difference between fighting on the road and fighting back upstairs," she said, panting. She had moved fast, but not fast enough. Pausing to regroup, she thought was a safe distance away.

Katsuro just shrugged, wiping the sweat from his top lip with the back of his hand before fixing a predatory gaze on the kunoichi.

"Pretty words," he said, deepening his stance, getting ready to pounce, "but you'll end up getting killed just the same."

It was his turn to come after her, and he was relentless. He punched and kicked until she was scooting backwards across the dusty floor, hardly able to get one foot down before she had to quickstep off it again in defense.

In between punches he peppered her with questions.

"And what do you do if you are outmatched completely? Nothing to protect? In over your head?"

She looked at him with big green eyes, processing what he'd said. She knew he was going to get her, there was nothing she could do to stop it, but she had found a pattern to his movements. If she let him hit her she could hurt him too. That would at least level the playing field.

"What do you do," she panted, moving her foot back in retreat and hoping he would continue his pattern. He did.

"You fake it," he ground out as he barreled into her ribcage again with his fist. But he was open too. Sakura took advantage of the moment to smash a chakra-laden heel down onto his foot.

He howled at the unexpected shot of pain while the kunoichi really did get the wind knocked out of her. Both fell away from each other and landed in the dust, cradling their injured spots, heaving ragged breaths.

"Fake it?" she gasped, hugging her bruised ribs. The pain was intense, but it made her feel moderately better knowing he was injured too.

"Damn," he said, pulling his knee up to his chest and clutching his foot, rocking slightly on his back. "Never show fear," he said. His voice was strained. "It's the worst enemy you'll ever have."

She nodded her head against the dusty floor. "Fake it," she repeated quietly. She understood.

"You really got me. I can't believe it," he croaked. "You did good," he breathed out deeply. "Let's take a break."

She laughed lightly, the rapid breath making her sides feel like they were going to split. But it was a good pain.

* * *

_Chapter 9 — Struggles and Triumphs, Part 2_

_Katsuro stretched back on top of his blanket, clasped his hands under his head and stared unseeing at the wood boards that covered the ceiling._

_He knew nothing of friends or parents, village life or family obligations. Those were all as distant and unfathomable to him as the stars in the sky. But she had come into much closer view._

_For any of them to even doubt her, he thought with a shake of his head, well then, they must not know her very well. She was more ninja than almost anyone he'd met._

* * *

**Author's notes:**

So, this chapter and part 2 focus on their growing closeness. More K/S goodness next week. Then action and pace will pick up quickly.

Had hoped to put up notes with all the pages, plus a secondary site, but fate conspired against me last week. But I'll get everything in order soon! Please read and review!

**Chapter notes: 6/4**

• More clone craziness: Slipped in one clone using Naruto's own line on Katsuro.

• Katsuro calls her Ino-chan — the -chan suffix will be a twist on the manga, meaning it will be sometimes used to piss her off, not always as a sign of affection.

• _"No one is coming to save you. You have to save yourself." "Sometimes...You have to fight your way out, because they want to take you down."_ — Katsuro's words will echo back to her as she moves through her life, whether she wants them to or not. They are both having a profound effect on each other, though neither has any idea of it yet. (There will be more about that in the next chapter.)

• _"But what about you? You're with them," she said, thumbing up to the floors upstairs. "So why are you different?" He blinked a few times, thinking about it. He shrugged finally. "Well, I guess I'm like you then," he said with a half-smile. "I don't want to kill someone if I don't have to, either."_ — Didn't make a big deal of it, but this is where he officially recognizes himself in her. But he has been slowly identifying with her the whole time. This is an important facet of their relationship in the manga, so I wanted to feature it here.

AnimeMistress, I didn't think of the yin/yang aspect, but it really fits. I am writing it so that they are two halves of a whole. And I'm so glad you like the author's notes! KungFu, I'm totally with you on the crappy education aspect. Without Naruto, Sakura would have languished, and that's where I'm writing from. Graven, NannyKiwi and kimiss, I'm glad you like it. I worry about the length sometimes, so I'm glad to hear feedback that it's ok with readers. Thanks so much to everyone for all the reviews and faves!


	9. Struggles and Triumphs, Part 2

Chapter 9 - Struggles and Triumphs - Part 2

Swirling her chopsticks around the edge of her bowl, Sakura mulled the few things she knew about the boy. There wasn't much. Grains of rice tumbled one at a time to the meager pile at the bottom of the dish. But how did he wind up with this bunch, she wondered again, tapping the sticks together lightly.

"So, you never lived in a village," she began, thinking aloud. "Did you have any friends your age then, growing up?"

He just looked at her, his face a mix of skepticism and suspicion. It was the look that reminded her she was the prisoner here.

She shrugged, and went back to her meal.

"And what about _your_ friends," he said, cutting his eyes at her over his bowl, thinking they must not be very good friends if they could abandon her so easily. He was sure he wouldn't like them for that reason alone.

She didn't catch the mean intent of what he'd said, instead taking his words seriously, chewing and thinking over what he'd asked. So she didn't see the drop in his expression, the wrinkle in his brow as he realized, with a little shame, that he had thought the worst of her. Maybe she wasn't pushing for information, maybe she just wanted to talk.

Sakura tipped her head and shrugged again.

"I think maybe it's easier if you're not a ninja," she said, She was looking at her food, but her thoughts were obviously miles away from that little room.

Katsuro nearly dropped his bowl. She may as well have punched him. His surprise at her candid assertion, that she would have a problem making friends, could barely be concealed. He thought she surely would have to beat them off with a stick.

Gulping down the last bite of food, Katsuro set his dish aside and leaned back against the wall, watching her quietly. He couldn't help it, he wanted to know more. Always.

"Well what about your team? Why aren't you friends?" he said. But she flicked suspicious eyes back at him. He backed off, as well. He wanted to know, not because of his mission, but because he was curious about the other little details of her life.

He cleared his throat.

"Well, what about girls?" he asked, thinking that in towns and outposts he'd only ever seen girls huddled in groups, talking or going somewhere, and she seemed like the one that would be right in the middle. But as soon as the words left his mouth, he wished he could reel them back in. The kunoichi's eyes went wide.

"What?" she said in dismay.

"You know, like you," he said, stumbling over his words. "Don't you have any girlfriends?" He smacked his hand over his eyes. "I mean, friends that are girls."

He could hear her soft laughter and pulled his hand back sheepishly. His embarrassment broke the ice.

"I do have friends who are girls. And friends who are boys," she said with a smile, letting his fumble slide. "But it's just not that easy."

He frowned at her. "Why not?" He simply couldn't believe it.

"Because, everyone from my class has moved on with their teams, bonded," she rolled her eyes, "and my group's not like that," she said quietly. He didn't say anything, just hoped she would continue.

"My 'best friend,'" she said, but it was in such a way that Katsuro understood it really wasn't the case.

"In—" she coughed quickly, trying to cover up her slip of Ino's name, the one she'd said was her own. "Sheee has long blonde hair."

Katsuro looked at her askance. Sakura hurried to gloss it over.

"We had the same crush in school, and she was paired with another team while I was paired with—" she stopped, not even wanting to admit that she thought about Sasuke differently at one time. "Well, she got the better end of the deal. Her team is great, mine is..." She didn't want to finish that thought either.

"But she's never gotten over it?" Katsuro filled in for her. Sakura nodded. They both lapsed into thoughtful silence.

"Is she stronger than you?" he asked finally. The kunoichi burst out laughing, green eyes dancing above the slim fingers that covered her mouth. He just grinned back.

"You mean, could I take her? In a fight?" she said, chuckling. Katsuro nodded, still smiling broadly.

"I don't know," she said, seriously thinking about it, but still smiling. "Maybe. After all this," she shot him another brief grin. "But fighting's not her strong suit. Her clan's specialty is mind control—"

"Like the Uchiha?" he interrupted.

"No, a little different," she answered.

Sakura spent the rest of that evening telling him about the different clans, and their different skills. It was nothing that was not already widely known beyond their borders — besides she didn't know anyone's secrets to keep or share — so she felt confident in talking about it. She also made sure not to reveal anyone's names or memorable features, just to be safe. She'd let it slip about Ino's hair, when she was scrambling to cover up her own gaffe, but there were lots of blonde-haired girls around.

Katsuro's genuine interest kept her going. He laughed a little at the "dog boy" clan as he called it, but was thoroughly grossed out by her description of "bug boy." He had assigned names to all her friends to keep them straight.

The firelight was flickering low when he asked about those closer to her.

"So I know you're one teammate is from a clan, what about the other one?" He hoped that by not mentioning her teammate, the Uchiha, his target and the only reason she was here, she would continue talking.

"The other one? He was an orphan who was raised to be a shinobi. He just follows orders," she said.

"A robot, then?" Katsuro said with a small smile.

Sakura nodded back, smiling. A robot. Yes, she thought, that was a fitting name for Sai.

"What about you?" Katsuro pushed on quietly. "Are you from a clan? You have a...thing," he said, wiggling fingers at her back.

She laughed. "A symbol? Yeah, I suppose I do.

"It is just a family symbol though. I'm not from a powerful clan like—" she stopped herself from saying Sasuke's name this time. "There's no great power or secret skill passed down through generations. In fact, I'm the first ninja in my family."

"Wow," Katsuro said, not sure how to respond. Maybe she was pushed into this life, he thought. Strategizing parents from shinobi village, it wasn't hard to imagine.

"Yeah," she said slowly, responding to his flat tone of voice.

"And your parents," he said questioningly, "they must be so proud." He tried but couldn't keep the sarcastic bite out of his voice. She didn't notice it though. An unreadable expression played out across her face.

"They don't understand it, and they don't understand why I want to do it. We don't talk too much about it," she said half-heartedly, leaning her head back against the wall.

"They're civilians, and they think that life should be good enough for me. But I've always felt like I could do more for my village than just tend a store or file away paperwork somewhere," she said. But her words were hollow. She sighed deeply and sat forward. "Sometimes I wonder if they're right, and I'm wrong."

Sakura shook her head of the thoughts. Gathering up her bowl, the kunoichi stood and held out her hand expectantly for his dish. He gave it to her without a word. She set the bowls down in a corner and retrieved their blanket rolls, dropping one into his lap as she passed.

Katsuro watched her quietly, waiting for her to say something more, wondering if he should instead. But if she was expecting small talk from him, she didn't seem to notice his silence.

"It's not their fault, they mean well," she said finally. Blanket smoothed against the floor, she folded herself between the layers and turned to face the wall.

"I don't want to think about it anymore tonight, okay?" she said.

"Okay," he answered, frowning into the sudden stillness of the room.

Something had troubled her, but he couldn't tell whether it was her parents' disapproval or her own self-doubt.

Katsuro unfurled his own blanket. He simply had no kind words to offer, but he could help in other ways.

"Tomorrow," he said, clearing his throat, "I can show you some more moves, if you'd like. I think they'd work well with your chakra control. Really help you take down your opponent."

"Okay," she breathed out dispiritedly.

Katsuro stretched back on top of his blanket, clasped his hands under his head and stared unseeing at the wood boards that covered the ceiling.

He knew nothing of friends or parents, village life or family obligations. Those were all as distant and unfathomable to him as the stars in the sky. But she had come into much closer view.

For any of them to even doubt her, he thought with a shake of his head, well then, they must not know her very well. She was more ninja than almost anyone he'd met.

* * *

Every morning and evening Katsuro hauled water to the men upstairs. They had arrived at a forced truce the first day. He brought the water up and took the food he needed. He even swiped a second blanket for himself. They didn't bother him, nor did they dare descend downstairs.

The chore also gave him a little time each day to stop by the paneled room. He had become very familiar with the paintings. Even so, it always seemed like there was something new to find.

He inspected the scenes, studied the faces, wondered about the strange sage. He also spent a lot of time thinking about the medic-nin's descriptions of her home, her friends. The stories and the painting were intertwining in his mind.

He saw her village as perpetually green, it's motley cast forever playing out their happy lives. Safe and untouched by the horrors beyond their walls. The idea sometimes enthralled, sometimes enraged him.

Yet carrying over it all was the kunoichi's lilting voice. It echoed in his mind as he looked at the paintings. It lingered in the warm air as he drifted off to sleep. It wove the fabric of his dreams together.

An image caught his eye and he leaned in closer, admiring the flowing black hair, perfectly rouged lips and delicately downcast eyes of a woman in the painting. She was posed under a flowering tree, choosing a piece of fruit. It was all contrived, and all so different from the one who'd opened his eyes to this other world. From her.

Somewhere below him, she was there right now. Not frozen in spring tableau. She was all summer sun. Her easy smiles and that hair. He was almost ashamed to think about it, that when he'd seen her his immediate thought was that the pink hair would make her an easy target. Now, when he thought about her, it fit her perfectly. Unrepentant and open. She was different.

He left the painted woman behind and scanned the panels for something that seemed more like the girl he'd come to know. Finally, he found something that captured her a little better, but surprisingly, there was nothing feminine about it.

A group of children were laughing beside a river. Leaves hung in the air, water flowed unhindered, the children circled each other in some unknown game. Their chubby hands were clasped, and the green grass curled around their feet. Fine brushstrokes became radiant smiles on their round faces.

He couldn't help but smile back. Yes, that was her, he thought. There was something in the easy freedom, the careless happiness of the children that resonated with his idea of her. This would be her part to play on the stage of the leaf-green village.

He shoved his hands into his pockets.

And here he was, watching it from the outside. Again.

If she was this — this glorious, sunlit moment — then he knew which part he was. Katsuro flicked a glance down to the dimly lit corner where he knew the last panel hung. It's angry scene waiting there, even in the darkness. The hero and the demon, poised for battle. Katsuro frowned, his mood darkening. He knew which part of that equation he was.

A scuffing at the door startled him.

"Hey, there you are," the kunoichi said, panting a little. She crossed the room swiftly. "I thought I might find you here. What are you looking at?"

"Just some of the pictures," Katsuro said, still a little discomposed. He felt as if he'd revealed something, although he knew he had not spoken a word. "Which one do you like?" he rejoined quickly to cover his unease.

She stepped forward for a closer look at the children playing.

"How sweet," she said, then slowly walked back up the line of panels.

"What about her?" he said as they passed the woman beneath the tree. He watched her reaction from under half-closed eyes.

"Oh, she's lovely isn't she. Beautiful hair. Looks like a princess," the kunoichi said, her smiling green eyes darting around the image. "But I think I like this little part best," she said, pointing to a scene he'd not noticed before.

They walked the length of the wall till they were almost at the beginning. A grand mountain scene was painted over an entire panel. At the top, a few snow-capped mountains poked out of a line of cottony mist. Below the mist, the slopes raced down nearly vertical, dotted here and there with red-leafed maple trees and illuminated by long shafts of sunlight. At the foot of the great mountains, hillocks covered in finely-lined green grass rolled away, forming the green ground of the village and scenery in the panels beyond.

A frothing waterfall broke the placid scene, cutting a straight line through the mountains and terminating at a knee of rocks that jutted out into the churning waters. A lone blossoming cherry tree clung to the rock, with a small patch of grass its only companion.

"There," she said, pointing at the knoll with a satisfied smile. She turned back to wait for his reaction.

It was pretty enough, he thought, but he wasn't impressed. He feigned interest for her sake, and continued to study the forgettable image.

But no sooner had he decided there was nothing interesting in the panel, did he discover that the the tree and it's rocky home did have some redeeming qualities.

While the waterfall fell in white streaks behind the rock, the river swirled around the front in deep blue circles. There the tree arched magnificently out over the water, it's branches, studded with pink blossoms, just brushed the whirlpool.

A faint ray of light streaked down through the mist to gild the little scene.

Katsuro plunked his hands on his hips in frustration. He had to admit, the more he looked, the more he saw.

What he had taken to be a white frothing of the river was actually petals, so finely rendered he almost missed it. Winding away from the tree, the placid blue river was dotted pink and white. Even the wispy grass that grew at the banks and bent with the flow of the current had petals caught in their long tendrils.

The river rolled on into the next panel, wide and smooth through the thick green grass. It ducked out of sight under a trim little bridge, then continued on toward the village.

"Eh," he said shrugging a shoulder, irritated that she liked the picturesque spot over all the others. She must have understood that he didn't see what she did.

"It represents the changing seasons, look," Sakura pointed to the clear anomaly of snow, autumn leaves and blossoms in such close proximity.

"Well, where's summer?" he asked with a frown.

"Oh, summer's all the rest of it," she said dismissively. He's snorted at that.

"It's pretty, I guess," he said, still a little disappointed that he couldn't pin her down to an image in the village.

"It's more than that though. Look closer," she said, tugging him forward by his arm. "So, if this whole painting is a story about a sage's journey, then this is the beginning. The river probably represents the chakra that he's teaching about, flowing through everything." Her fingers trailed along with the water, then returned to the rocky knoll. "And if it does, then this spot right here is where it springs from, literally. It transcends the seasons, it's untouched by time."

She turned back to him, hand on her hip, a satisfied grin on her face.

Katsuro blinked, opened his mouth to disagree, then snapped it shut again with a frown. After comparing it with the rest of the panels, he realized she was probably right.

Where the other images were painted with bright colors and swift brushstrokes, this little area was masterfully rendered in a harmony of colors, exquisitely detailed down to the smallest petals. The scene was very special indeed.

He had been wrong. He had been looking for her in the village. She wasn't there.

Studying the tableaus, Katsuro had indulged in dissecting and dismissing the cast of characters, wrapped up in their own lives. He had already decided which part he belonged too, and he wanted to box her up with the rest of the village. But she slipped out of those plans as well.

"So which part do you like?" she said lightly, oblivious to his discontent.

He cleared his throat. He truly had not thought about what he liked, only what he was obligated to. Her question surprised him. If he had a choice, then which would he choose?

He knew the answer, he thought, puffing out a breath. He was beginning to see a pattern here.

"That part, too," he begrudgingly acknowledged, jerking his hand toward the scene. "With the tree. The water."

She just smiled in response.

Katsuro glanced back down the panels at the vivid scenes, each with their own little story to tell, then returned to the panel in front of him. He recognized now what she had seen from the start. This was the beginning, the source. Where the blossoms met the swirling water was where all the rest of it sprang from.

He had just leaned in close to see if the branches actually touched the water itself, when a chakra-laden punch in the arm nearly knocked him over.

"Ow," he said, rubbing his arm, looking at her laughing face for an explanation.

"Come on," she said, eyes glittering. "You promised you'd show me some new stuff today!"

It brought him back to the present, shook him of his thoughts. They were neither of them characters in an ancient painting.

He wasn't locked in a battle, chained to a fate he could never escape.

She wasn't a child playing games from which he was horribly excluded.

They were, right now, safe from everything, tucked away in a forgotten temple on the edge of a mountain. It reminded him forcibly of that grassy patch beneath the protective canopy of the cherry tree.

Helping her to defend herself made him feel good, worthwhile. And in return, though she didn't know it, she gave him the gift of treating him as if nothing were wrong. Seeing it through her eyes, he was just another kid trying to survive. The world was still full of beauty and possibility, and happy endings. Even against hopeless odds.

If he had been wrong about her, then maybe he wasn't tied to that last panel, either. Maybe there was a beautiful spot, protected and unspoiled, even for him.

Pink hair, he thought again as he looked at her quizzical face. It's perfect.

"Are you ok?" she said, tipping her head with a smile. Her hair swung softly away from her neck.

"I'm good," he said, exhaling deeply. He smiled back. "I'm great. Let's go. I've been looking forward to this too."

They turned together and left the floor, sending more flecks of dust sparkling into the air in their wake.

* * *

Sakura knew what she was doing this time.

Her movements were sure, her fists were tight. She knew she had him.

Pushing him into a defensive position with a small kick, Sakura moved her arms as if to release a jab to his midsection. But it was only a ruse. She shifted her weight and shot a chakra-encased hand straight up into his chin, delivering a punishing uppercut. Just like he'd taught her.

He toppled backwards onto the floor, eyes wide, hands splayed out behind him.

This felt so good, she thought, cracking her knuckles.

"Ready for another?" she said. She could go all day like this, but she was pretty sure he couldn't. He pushed the mop of brown curls away from his eyes.

"No," he said, laughing as she pulled him back up to standing. His smiles and laughter made her feel better about the pummeling he was taking from her.

'No harm done,' she thought. He seemed to be just as pleased as she was about her success. But she couldn't quite forget that he was her warden.

For what seemed like the thousandth time, she tried to ignore her tenuous situation and just focus on his kindness. He had given her more encouragement in the past week than she'd gotten from her team in a year. In fact, if he wasn't the one who had abducted her, she would have to admit he was more of a friend to her than anyone in her squad.

Sakura took the orange he offered and sat down beside him under the window in their sparring room. Knees propped up, shoulders almost touching, they sat in companionable silence and ate their fruit.

If there was another agenda there, she thought again, a darker reason to why he was assisting her, she simply couldn't find it.

And though he would offer no clues to his background, and she, stupidly, had revealed so much about herself, he didn't appear to be gathering information about her. It almost seemed as if he was lonely. As if he liked hearing about the foibles of her friends, her team, her life. She thought it was dreadful, but she supposed it would sound good if those men upstairs were your only companions. Which turned her thoughts back to the puzzle of why he was with them. She wished she knew just a little bit more about him.

Katsuro cleared his throat, startling her, and launched into a dialogue as if they had already been speaking.

"There's nothing else you should be doing," he said seriously, eyes fixed on some distant point in the room. Sakura turned to look at him, but he continued on, never moving his gaze.

"You protected those kids. You weren't afraid," he said firmly. "Not many people would do that, would go that far."

Sakura looked at her hands. She had become accustomed to his way of asking her things to prove a point. She would answer, only to find a bitter opinion or sarcastic dig. And so far, most of his points were painful. But there was something different in his tone of voice this time.

"I think you are doing the right thing, being a ninja and all. And if you enjoy being a medic, and you're good at it, you should do it, too," he said firmly. "And I wouldn't give a shit about what anyone else thinks."

She turned quickly to peer back into his face, her surprise evident at his serious tone. But he was in earnest.

Katsuro was offering his support. Not just because it was convenient to him, but because he thought she needed to hear it.

"Thanks," she said softly, studying his profile.

There had always been lots of approval heaped around, but never directly. She'd often hear a 'good job' or 'great work' in class, but when she became part of a team, even those anonymous praises dried up. And there was never, ever any mention of her missions or work at home.

Here, this boy, this rogue, is the one to tell her not to give up on the decision she'd wrapped her life around.

Katsuro was really tough. And if he thought that she was good enough, then...well, that meant something to her.

"Thanks a lot," she said.

He cut her sideways glance and gave a brief, embarrassed smile. But she grinned widely back. His eyes were a dull brown, that couldn't be helped, but when he smiled there was something very expressive and kind in the way they crinkled at the corners. She could see it now.

* * *

Though she had proved herself in their mock battle, landing quite a few punches on him over the course of the afternoon, Katsuro was still working out ways she could use her skill to her advantage.

"So, if I were you," he said, rubbing his chin thoughtfully as they padded back up the stairs, "then I would try every move possible that can have chakra channeled into it. Punching, kicking, anything. If you can pound your chakra into it, then do it. That's your strength."

She nodded in honest agreement, letting her hand drag over the wall as she climbed. Only the pattering of crumbling sand on the stone steps broke the early evening stillness. Neither seemed to take notice, though.

It was clear to both of them that this training had gone far beyond self-defense moves. He was preparing her for anything she might face, and thugs were at the bottom of the list.

'She's a Leaf ninja,' he thought. 'More than likely she's going to be fighting off other shinobi more than common criminals—'

"You're good at this, you know," she called up to him, interrupting his thoughts. "Helping other people."

He smiled but didn't turn back to her, instead occupying himself with pushing the door open to their floor. They silently crossed the large, dark hall.

She had said little niceties before, and most he dismissed as just that. But sometimes she said things so easily, so fluidly, that they arrested him for a moment.

He was reminded of her throwing open that shutter and breathing life into the good things hidden in the darkness, naming them for him to hold onto.

Just like the panels, her kind words were his now, never to be forgotten. He pushed the door open to the little room, then held it back for her to pass.

"Do you help train other people in your...group?" she said as she walked by. They never spoke about his group, or her team, and she mentioned it haltingly.

"No," he said with a little laugh. She grabbed an orange and sat down on the window ledge.

"So, if you didn't go to an academy, how were you trained?" Her voice was soft, and there was no hint of pressure, but still...

He had been reaching for an orange when her heard her question. His instincts always tipped toward self-protective. Though it sounded innocent, and he thought enough of her now not to suspect her every move, there was still a broad gap between them. He stood without the orange as she started to speak again.

"We were trained in teams. Although mine's not anything like any of the others. I might as well be alone," her voice thinned at the admission. But after a moment she rejoined, "so what about you, did you have a team or was it just a sensei."

He understood. She had offered a bit of information about herself in return for something from him. A trade.

It went against everything — everything — he'd been trained for. And he'd been very careful so far, not to reveal anything that could trace him to his past. He opened the door, curling his hand around the edge. Answering her was not an option, he told himself.

But still he did not move.

True, she was from Konoha, he thought. But she was so much different than he'd ever expected anyone from that wretched place to be. Maybe this didn't have to be so hard. Maybe she just wanted to know more about him, the same way he always wanted to know more about her.

He cleared his throat.

"I had none of that," he said emotionlessly. "I was taught what I needed to survive. I had to learn quickly and put it to use. There were no schools, no teammates, no second chances."

He stepped over the threshold, deciding to get an early start on his nightly water run. The little room seemed too confining at the moment.

"Thank you, then," he heard her call out. He paused, hand on the metal handle, listening. "For this. For treating me differently. You have a great deal of kindness." He didn't say anything but closed the door.

This time, he couldn't see what she did.

A dull ache tightened like a band around his chest. It was something unknown to him, something like regret. The feeling stayed with him as he crossed the empty hall. He couldn't seem to shake it.

There was a shadow to the good things she'd said. He wasn't kind, no matter how nice he was to her. He put her in this situation.

If he were really kind, he thought, he would have chosen the other teammate.

Katsuro dragged a hand over his forehead, closing his eyes for a moment. How could he have known she would be so—

A hawk's cry pierced the air high above. Katsuro snapped his head up, senses on high alert, listening hard at the edge of the stairwell.

The plaintive sound whistled over the crumbling stone walls and echoed relentlessly through the deserted rooms.

Katsuro knew what it meant: tomorrow, he'd learn of their fate.

* * *

_Chapter 10_

_"We need to close it back up, I don't want anything to happen to these," he said gesturing to the paneled wall. When she didn't follow, he looked back at her reflexively. She stood outside the doorway, one arm still folded over her stomach. The gray light streamed around her. She only looked up the stairwell, not making any effort to move._

_"Just wait there," he said dully._

_Katsuro swiftly closed up the shutters, locking them tight. Though he couldn't bring himself to look at the pictures, he knew they were there. _

_He could imagine the light fading over the scenes. The playing children, their upturned smiling faces. He was stealing their sunlight. _

* * *

Author's Notes:

Couple things from reviews, I've included more backstory info in Chapter 10 specifically in response to review questions. There's a flashback chapter much later on, but I'll shed some light on Naruto's background in the next one. As promised, put up a secondary site for expanded notes, etc. But be warned, it's rife with spoilers! Click through the 'homepage' link on my bio.

**Chapter 9 notes:**

First vignette: Chapter begins with her asking him about his life, which he deflects. But the chapter ends with his revealing to her a little about his life. Other teammate is...Sai!

- Sakura's family life - that's my little take on the long debate over Sakura's family and standing in the village. In the manga, Naruto and Sasuke are orphans, and Sakura may as well be. So I wrote her a backstory to reflect that. Not good or bad, just that the parents aren't really present in her life.

Painting Vignette: Lots and lots to infer there, but I'll only cover a few. When Sakura describes her favorite scene, I tried to draw on Naruto's manga characterization of not always getting something the first time. Imagine him with his eyes squinted in thought and his mouth all twisted up.

- And of course - neither know the other one's real name, but the painting is a representation of things to come. And just like Katsuro, we don't know yet if the branches actually touch the water itself.

- Katsuro's take on her pink hair - I'm intentionally describing Sakura's beauty in terms of her strength, character attributes, not anonymous beauty for the sake of being pretty.

Last two vignettes: she finally succeeds in landing a punch, bringing the first vignette of the chapter to full circle. In these last two scenes, they come to some sense of recognition with each other, first from Sakura's pov, then Naruto's (although his is tinged with guilt, as would be expected). But now the foundation for their future teamwork is laid.

I'm glad the characterizations are hitting the mark, KungFu, Celious, and AnimeMistress. I've tried hard to show Naruto keeping his good nature even in the rough world he's been brought up in. Thanks too, kimiss and nanny kiwi gurl!

As far as skills, both are strong and will continue to grow, Akenshi and SilentWriter. Sakura is showing the most improvement right now because she's not had a good partner to train with. But Naruto...well I wrote a tiny bit about his powers (and why he hid them) for the last chapter but omitted them. It just seemed too out of character for him (being cagey about little things, then opening up about skills that no one else has). Suffice it to say, he's powerful. Powerful enough to teach her without a thought in the world of it doing him any harm. Signature moves, etc., will all come, but they don't have a place in the story yet.

SilentWriter and Moldock, both your reviews had me laughing! Moldock, I don't know why ninjas wear open-toed shoes. I'd aim a kunai for the big toe before I ever whipped out a rasengan!

"Kyaa!" Off to write more...


	10. Closed Doors

Chapter 10 - Closed Doors

Though he had hoped to see a scroll in the morning, there was nothing for him when he brought up the water. He would just have to wait. So Katsuro slowly returned down the winding stairwell with an armload of fruit, and no answers.

He knew this would end, that they would have to leave. Then why did he feel so bad about it?

Not paying attention, his heel rolled off a crumbling step. Katsuro flailed for a moment, trying to catch himself and not drop all the food. But one piece of fruit dislodged itself, and he could do nothing but watch the orange bounce down the stairs and out of sight around the curve of the wall.

He was already frustrated, but loosing an orange on the way down — a noticeable piece of food which could be traced, which he'd have to find, which could be anywhere in the damned temple by now — further sunk his mood.

Crossing the main hall of their floor, he thought about his next obstacle: the kunoichi. She would probably want to spar, but he simply couldn't bring himself to do it.

What he really wanted to do was sit down and sharpen every weapon he'd ever owned. The end result always made him feel better: gleaming kunai and shurikens, plus the sense that nothing could touch him now. But he remembered he'd already done that back at camp. Fuck.

He balanced the rest of the food precariously in his folded elbows and was just toeing the door back, when it burst open, knocking his arm and sending the fruit tumbling into the little room.

"Oh! Sorry!" the med-nin said brightly. "Not helping much, am I?" she said with a laugh and began to pick up the rolling fruit.

He said nothing, only corralled the oranges and apples, kicking them to the corner haphazardly.

"So, do you want to—" she began, but he stopped her.

"I don't really feel like it today," he said quietly.

She stood up, still holding an errant orange, looking at his back.

"Ok," she said slowly. "Is everything alright?"

Katsuro ignored her personal question.

"Are we out of water?" he asked, answering himself with a single glance to the empty bucket. "I'll go get some more."

"I'll go with you," she said with forced lightness, and followed him out.

He just shrugged, and they walked silently down through the floors.

Sakura said nothing the whole way, but watched his back warily. Either he felt bad or something had happened, or both. She had seen his temper flare before, and it had been in response to the men in his camp.

Perhaps something had happened upstairs to set him off, she thought, and decided to give him some space. Then again, maybe it was nothing, she told herself.

They sat down, backs against the stone well, knees propped up, and took turns sipping water from the bucket between them as they had done nearly every day for a week now.

But Sakura could tell something was different. He was so quiet, she might as well have been there by herself.

So the kunoichi filled in the silence with idle chatter, describing a land she'd visited on a mission once, a country on the edge of a vast ocean. She asked where he had been, hoping the neutral topic would pull him out of his taciturn mood, but he still said nothing. She prattled on, realizing too late she'd hardly traveled anywhere in the world. Sakura was nearly out of things to talk about when he finally broke his silence.

"I've never been to the same place twice," he said quietly, looking out through the tall arches. She turned to study his face. There was no trace of his characteristic happiness.

"Not the camps, but other towns, villages. We stay for a while, come and go. But when we leave, we never come back," he said. Sakura noted there was a finality to his words she hadn't heard before.

"And really, who would want to. It is much more interesting to see new places," he finished, lips in a firm line.

"Wouldn't you want to go back to someplace where people knew you?" she said. She noticed that he was speaking, but never looking at her. Sakura bit her lip. Something was definitely wrong.

"No. I've never thought about it. It's never mattered to me," he said. "I suppose when you've lived within walls your whole life it's hard being free." She would have thought it was a joke if she had not caught the cut of his eyes, the mean smirk at the corner of his mouth.

"Running all the time doesn't seem free to me," she said indignantly, but immediately regretted it. Whatever was troubling him, it would do no good to anger him more. Maybe if she stuck to topics he'd found interesting before, then he would open up. "I would miss my friends, my favorite places..."

"Yes, I've heard all about them," he quipped. "And they sound nice, but there are lots of nice places in the world." He swept his arm toward the arches.

Her gaze followed his motion. It was lovely, she thought, but being held prisoner here made all the difference in their points of view.

Sakura cleared her throat, feeling the need to explain herself.

"I mean, I would miss my village and my parents—"

"Well that's where we are different," he cut her off, his tone turning icy.

Katsuro stood swiftly and snapped up the bucket, sloshing it's contents over the edges.

He took a step over a large crack in the floor, then stopped. Sakura just watched his back and waited. The tap-tap-tapping of water from the bottom of the bucket echoed around the stone room.

"I never look back. Ever," he said, his voice angry and low. "You seem to never look ahead, do you. Or around, for that matter. Even now, still looking back. See anyone back there — well they're not coming for you. I don't have a high opinion of your village. They have thrown you away. You shouldn't look back either."

Hoisting up the bucket, Katsuro took to the stairs and was gone. The gravelly footsteps and pattering water faded into silence.

Unable to say a word, Sakura simply watched him leave, eyes watering. Each one of his cruel remarks was like a slap in the face.

She hugged her knees to her chest and squeezed her eyes tight against this awful world she had been dropped into. What was she thinking. He was an enemy, she was a prisoner. He wasn't her friend.

Dropping her forehead to her knees, she didn't try to stop the tears that spilled down her cheeks, wetting her kneecaps. She ran through every scenario in her head, but none ended with a positive outcome. She was alone in this.

Sakura sat at the base of the well, clutching her legs, head buried from the world, until she was stiff. When she finally looked up, a few startled birds flew from their perches. They had mistaken her as part of the scenery.

Blinking at the light, she wished she were one of those birds. They could just fly out of this room and away from it all, she thought.

Sakura gingerly stood and followed their path to the window, looking out at the green escarpment. Resting her hand on a moss-covered windowsill, it was easy to think that she could just hop over those rocks down the mountain. But she knew it was a cliff face underneath, and that soft moss was a slippery as ice. It was a prison with no walls.

She wondered darkly just how far she could get before the mountain dropped away. Rocking onto the balls of her feet, she leaned out over the sill. The view was dizzying. She didn't know how that temple stayed on the mountainside.

Sakura tipped back inside the window, grabbed a nearby stone off the floor and tossed it down the crag. Lifting a foot and balancing a hand on the flat ledge, she bent her hips to lean even farther out and track it's progress. It bounced down the boulders, once, twice, then disappeared over the edge. If that had been a body — her body — then her fate would have been grim.

A small shuffling noise at the doorway drew her attention. Returning both feet to the ground, Sakura turned cautiously.

It was Katsuro. She wasn't sure how long he had been standing there, but his mood appeared even darker than before. He just watched her, frowning, a scroll clutched tightly in his hand.

The kunoichi didn't know what to make of any of his behavior today, so she just waited for him.

"Our time is up," he said darkly. "We leave in the morning."

He turned on his heel and climbed back up the steps, not even waiting for the information to sink in.

Sakura was left blinking at the empty doorway. She slowly turned back, unseeing, to the window. A knot of dread twisting her insides.

What she had feared most was upon her.

Sakura stood, unmoving, unable to decide what to do. Throw herself out the window? Or try to escape on the way down? Should she go now or should she wait? Why, why didn't they come?

Fear and doubt glued her to the ground. Which death would she choose?

From the arched window, Sakura watched the world fall away from her. The sun sank lower, despair closed in. But no amount of tears could stop time from slipping by.

Birds took to wing, glistening black in the golden afternoon light, endlessly flitting and darting, skimming insects out of the breeze. Still, she did not stir from that spot.

The sun burned orange in the sky before it guttered out completely, and finally in the blue-grey of early evening, exhaustion began to chip away at the immobilizing fear. Sakura found she no longer want to stare out of the wretched window. In fact she never wanted to see it again. She just wanted to lie down and forget this had ever happened. More than anything, she wanted to just give up.

The kunoichi scuffed numbly back up the steps. Crossing the main hall in darkness, she aimed herself for the dimly lit doorway at the otherside. Grey light permeated the little room, pooling darkly in the corners.

Wherever Katsuro had disappeared to, he had not been back in a long time. There was no fire, but his pack was propped against the wall ready for travel, a blanket was rolled tightly at the bottom of it.

Her own blanket lay untouched below the window, in the same spot she had woken up from. The morning, with all it's sunlit possibility, seemed so far away from now. She exhaled raggedly, pulled the cover back, slid beneath and pulled it over her head, feeling utterly defeated.

A few floors up, Katsuro shifted his feet on the silty tiles. He had long ago stopped caring about the dirty floor, and was now laid back on it with his knees propped up. He was sure his hair was full of dust. In the darkness it wouldn't matter though. Nothing would.

He had been tossing an orange over his chest, from one hand to the other, but it was getting harder and harder to see it in the evening light.

After he left the well room, Katsuro occupied himself by packing and repacking his things. A midday trip upstairs yielded the scroll that had set him on pins and needles since the evening before.

He searched through some areas where he thought he would find her, realizing belatedly that she must not have come up from the well room. He had stormed off and left her there, not thinking what she would do. He descended the stairs slowly, ignoring the pangs of guilt, hoping he was wrong.

But all his uneasy feelings burst into a ridiculous anger when he saw her, leaning out over the window ledge. Looking for something. Or someone.

'Was she watching for them, even now,' he raged inwardly.

He wanted to yell at her, shake the scroll in her face, prove her wrong. Tell her this is what her village does to people and demand to know why couldn't she see it. But he didn't.

Instead he delivered his message, then left her there.

Tasking himself with finding the stray orange, Katsuro set about scouring the temple, rummaging through nearly every forsaken place off the edge of the stairwell. About halfway through the floors he finally found it, wedged just out of sight between a broken door and it's frame.

Pushing the door open, Katsuro hoped to find something new to distract him, but there was only dust and grey walls. However, the forgotten silence of this abandoned room soothed his wretched mood.

Katsuro heaved a sigh and flopped down on the floor. Rolling his head to the side, he let his gaze travel over the dirt and rocks, past the broken branches and lost feathers, to where he knew the floor shattered and fell away.

He closed his eyes on the picture made by the broken wall, the gently swaying tree limbs and blue sky. They were complicit in this lie he'd told himself. That this could go on forever. That he didn't have to leave and turn her over to Itachi. That it wasn't his fault.

Feeling around beside him, he grabbed up the orange and threw it back and forth over his chest. Gently chucking it from hand to hand, his mind ran through futile arguments as the hours ticked away.

Afternoon finally burned itself out, yet Katsuro still couldn't shake the hollow feeling from the night before. In fact it had grown. And now, what he realized must be regret gnawed at him, made him want impossible things.

He wished she had never left her village walls. Then he'd have never seen her, and she'd be safe.

He wished her team had come for her. Then he'd be free from these awful feelings.

Unbidden, memories of the past few days flashed through his mind. Would he really give those up, then? Selfishly, he knew the answer was no.

But it left him stranded. Trapped between his obligations to his group and some mother-hen feelings for a girl too stubborn to stay out of trouble.

That damn village had caught him again. All because of her.

Katsuro tossed the orange back to his other hand, but this time in the darkness he missed. It hit the stones and rolled to the edge of the floor where the wall had broken away. He turned on his side to watch it roll off into oblivion, no longer caring what happened to it, but the orange stopped just shy of the edge. Dusting a hand and propping it up under his temple, Katsuro looked out across the blue-black mountainside.

He tried to summon the successes of the past few days. Her easy smiles and triumphant expressions. The feeling that he'd made a difference. He knew it had warmed him to his core then.

But those shining moments were out of reach for him now. Probably for her too. Somewhere, right now, she was in the building feeling...well, he didn't know how she would be feeling. But after his angry outburst then delivering their marching orders, she certainly had not sought him out. And that was hours and hours ago. He didn't expect her to, but still couldn't quell the half-hope that fluttered up when he heard the occasional noise.

Even that made him mad. That he'd become so accustomed to her presence that he listened for her soft footfalls.

How was he supposed to just hand her over to Itachi and walk away now?

'Dammit,' he growled, standing. Katsuro went to the window opening beside the stairwell. Reaching an arm outside, he blindly grasped along the wall beyond the window. When his fingers curled around what he was looking for he gave a hard tug. He was rewarded with a satisfying snap.

Pulling a length of broken vine through the window, he returned to his place in the center of the room. Sitting down again, Katsuro set about fishing the orange back from the edge, glad to have some activity.

After Itachi rescued him, Katsuro promised himself he'd never be hurt again. Never give an opening, never leave a weak spot. And here just thinking about her made him feel exposed. Vulnerable. He fucking hated it.

Katsuro swiped the vine closer, inadvertently brushing up against the fruit. The orange rocked away a turn then stopped again. He had to take care or he would knock it over the edge.

Sighing, Katsuro laid out on his belly to get safely closer, stretching his arm for another careful swish of the vine.

This had to stop, he told himself.

Attachments can get you killed, he told himself.

They were both on missions, both knew the consequences. Both just playing their parts when their paths crossed.

So really, none of this was his fault, he told himself.

He needed to stop worrying about things that were out of his control. He had a task to focus on. And the concern he felt for her was just a distraction, a natural byproduct of a fleeting attachment. The thought clicked into place like a missing puzzle piece.

One last swipe, and this time the vine hooked the orange. He reeled in the branch steadily toward him to retrieve his prize.

Uncovering the source of his discontent made him feel better than he had all day. He had simply gotten too close to her, and it made him feel like he'd left an opening.

Flipping the fruit in the air, Katsuro began to strategize what he would need to do to get them both through the next two days. This was just like any other mission, he thought with a nod, and she was nothing more to him than a person to transport. There was no weak spot here.

He stood swiftly, flung the branch out of the gaping hole and headed for the stairs.

He thought this mission, the first one he was in charge of, would be a breeze. It was anything but.

Pushing the door open to their level, Katsuro found it covered in darkness. He wondered where she was, but thought quickly she probably had a little fire behind the closed door.

He creaked open the heavy door to the room, but saw no fire. Panicking momentarily that she might actually have tried to escape, he scanned the seemingly empty room.

But when his eyes finally found her quiet form in the darkness, Katsuro was hit with a memory so sharp he stopped in the doorway to suck in a breath.

Across the room, her mostly flat blanket was where it had been all week, save for the body curled up at the top of her bedding, taking up as little room as possible in the world.

How many times had he done that? Wished that everything would go on without him?

He knew what she felt, he had been there. Abandoned at Konoha's hands. How many nights had he spent at the orphanage, just like that? Balled up, trying to take up as little space at all, wishing the world would just sweep over and forget you were there. That the crushing truth wasn't going to destroy you in the morning. And if not tomorrow, then certainly the next.

He had lived through that, survived. Escaped his prison without walls in the orphanage. Where he was shunned. Where he found out he was a monster. Where he waited for the day when they drug him off to a permanent jail cell, or to his death. But Itachi pulled him from that misery, gave him a life, hope. Told him to never fear his power. That he was special. And that Konoha was wrong.

And now? Well, now he was someone else's jailor. Delivering the same punishment meted out to him in that damned village. The irony was too cruel.

He didn't want to think about his reasons anymore, telling himself that making amends to her was good strategy. He didn't want to be the one making her feel alone in the world.

Katsuro padded across the room, tossing the orange toward his rucksack, and patted the dust from his hands on his pants as he walked. Squatting down beside her, Katsuro pulled the edge of her blanket back, found her shoulder and gave it a gentle shake. She turned and looked back at him blinking. He could just make out her face in the darkness.

He had moved so intently he had forgotten to prepare words. He cleared his throat.

"I just wanted to tell you that...I'm sorry," he said, exhaling. "I'm sorry for what I said earlier."

He couldn't remember the last time he'd apologized to anyone. He'd spent the first half of his life apologizing to everyone, just for being there, just for breathing. He swore he'd never be sorry for anything again.

She turned her head away to look back at the wall. "You don't have to be. I'm your prisoner. None of this matters anyway."

He frowned and sat down on the stones beside her, his knee leaning onto her blanket.

"I know it's easier to have a compliant prisoner than a hostile one," she said simply, shrugging one shoulder.

He looked up out of the window into the starred darkness. No, she wasn't a child in an orphanage. She was a kunoichi. She knew what her fate was.

But he didn't want her to feel alone. He understood how she felt, yet couldn't comprehend why she didn't rail against them.

He wanted to tell her she should be angry at her village. Instead, he told her why he was angry at them.

"My village..." his throat closed on him. He swallowed and started again. "My village abandoned me. I had a power which was useful for them, but when they didn't need it anymore, I was thrown away like trash." He was glad for the darkness.

She rolled over to face him. "I'm so sorry," she said quietly. "Is that how you came to be with Itachi?" she asked tentatively. She could see him nodding in the darkness.

"They were going to kill me. Itachi found me before they could."

He didn't say anything for a long time. It was a big secret. Huge actually. It was foolish to even tell her, and he knew Itachi would call him out for doing it. Endangering yourself, he would say, revealing too much. But he wasn't revealing any details, it was just enough so she'd know she wasn't alone.

But when he was finished he found he couldn't say anything else. Just stringing the words together was painful. And thankfully she didn't push for more.

"If your village doesn't think your good enough, then it's their loss," he said quietly. "You never have to look back, either. Ok?" He just wanted her to know, more than anything, that she wasn't alone. So much for breaking off his attachment, he thought.

Something brushed his kneecap. He thought, but couldn't be sure, that she might have touched his knee in the darkness. There was a slight pressure there, but when he glanced down, he saw nothing but his own leg.

So he sat silently, not able to say anything else, but not wanting to leave her side either. That day, the majority spent in anger, was the longest he'd been away from her since he crashed into her life. He felt like that was long enough. He couldn't speak anymore, but he liked being physically close to her. Perhaps she felt the same.

After sitting for what felt like hours, emotions and reasoning unwinding, he repeated to her softly, "I'm sorry for what I said." The loss of anger left only exhaustion in its wake, and he was truly sorry.

"It's ok," was her tired reply. There it was again, he thought, the slight pressure at his leg where it fell over her blanket. This time he saw it. She reached her fingertips out to graze his bent knee, a little touch of reassurance.

Katsuro's breath caught in his throat.

A whole afternoon of frustration, of guilt and doubt, was wiped away with a single touch. What he agonized over, showing concern, opening himself up even a fraction to another person, she gave to him freely.

She silently, effortlessly let him know that he was not adrift. That the things that troubled him, mattered to her to. He had wanted her to feel better, know she was not alone in this mess. Amazingly, her soft touch made him feel like he wasn't alone either.

Katsuro told himself he didn't need her, that she was just part of a mission. He was lying to himself.

But truth was clear now. This situation was neither of their faults, and he promised himself he wouldn't let it come between them. Whatever connection he'd made to her, he knew now he didn't want to lose it.

He made a quick decision.

Moving silently across the room, Katsuro ran his hand along the wall till he found his pack. Fingers sunk in the folds of his blanket, he retraced his steps and unrolled it beside her. In the darkness, he felt the need to sleep next to her, so that he could reach out and tell her she wasn't alone. If she needed to hear it, he told himself. And maybe, just in case he needed to know she was there too.

* * *

The world was disarmingly quiet the next morning. A thick, wet mist cloaked the mountaintop, washing all the color from the room, and drenching the shadows a shade darker.

Katsuro lay on his side, watching the the soft rise and fall of her blanket, and wondered if she was awake yet. He didn't have to wait long for an answer.

The kunoichi flipped on her back, sighed deeply, blinked a few times, then bit her lip while her bright eyes darted unseeing over the old boards on the ceiling. He didn't need to ask — he knew she was thinking about what this day had in store for her.

"You ok?" Katsuro asked tentatively.

She must have not realized he was so close. The kunoichi turned suddenly at his voice, but her face broke into a wide smile, green eyes taking him in.

"You're a mess," she said with a laugh. He lifted a hand up to inspect it. She was right. He was filthy. A layer of brown dust coated his hand, he could only imagine what his face looked like. And his hair.

Smiling now too, he raked his fingers through his hair. Sure enough, a little cloud of dust shook out.

She laughed again, then quietly sat up to look out the window, pulling her knees up under the blanket. When she turned back to him again, her expression was quite different.

"This is it, then?" she said soberly, pinning him with wide eyes.

He wanted to lie, tell her everything was going to be ok, but he couldn't do that to her.

"Yeah, this is it," he muttered. "We better get going."

Both of them were quiet after that, making their own preparations for the journey. He brought her oranges, but she shied them away with a hand. The other hand clutched her stomach.

"It's a long way down, you'll need your strength," he said, hoping to convince her, knowing she didn't eat last night either.

"I just can't" she said quietly.

"I'll carry them then, until you can," he said, with a frown. He understood, her stomach was in a knot.

"Ok," she said dispassionately, her tone as colorless as the world around them.

Katsuro quickly gathered everything up and dispersed the ashes from the fire. Sakura just waited, numb. The activity suited him, whereas she seemed unable to move. But both felt the same.

They slowly climbed the winding staircase. Katsuro pulled doors closed on each platform.

When they reached the floor with the beautiful painting he stopped her.

"We need to close it back up, I don't want anything to happen to these," he said, gesturing to the paneled wall. When she didn't follow, he looked back at her reflexively. She stood outside the doorway, one arm still folded over her stomach. The gray light streamed around her. She only looked up the stairwell, not making any effort to move.

"Just wait there," he said dully.

Katsuro swiftly closed up the shutters, locking them tight. Though he couldn't bring himself to look at the pictures, he knew they were there.

He could imagine the light fading over the scenes. The playing children, their smiling, upturned faces. He was stealing their sunlight.

The beautiful cherry tree and the spiraling river. There would be no more shafts of light to sparkle over the scene.

It was her favorite picture, and now his too. But their time in the forgotten temple had drawn to a close, the arching tree could no longer protect them. His chest felt hollow at the thought.

Though time may not pass in those paintings, it would not wait for them.

Katsuro finished as quickly as he could, desperate to be out of the room. Knowing that he was on the opposite side again, what she had brought to life he was plunging back into darkness.

At the door she waited in that unyielding grey light.

Though he tried to ignore the feeling as he crossed the darkened room, it bothered him that she wouldn't even spare a last look at the painting. Wasn't it special to her too?

He stepped out and pulled the red door closed, locking the rustic handle to ensure it would be safe until... Until what? he thought. They wouldn't be back, not this year, at least. And he'd never return here with her. His shoulders dropped with a sad sigh.

Turning around he sought out her face, but she instinctively looked away. She couldn't hide the glistening tracks of tears on her cheeks, though. Those caught the light when nothing else did.

"Stop," was all he could say. It hurt him to see her upset, and he brought his hand up to brush the tears away from her face but stopped himself. Instead he cupped his warm palm over her shoulder.

"We've got a long way to go today, and you need to be alert," he said firmly, angry with himself now. The concern he felt for her still made him feel vulnerable. And their journey was only going to get harder.

She didn't look at him, but nodded once that she understood. They began again. By the time they got to the top all traces of sadness were gone, and her green eyes were scanning over everything.

Outside, the sun was already beginning to burn through the mist that enveloped the temple.

Standing at the door of the great hall, Sakura could hear the grumbling and scuffing sounds from the tiled patio outside before she could actually see the throng of men she knew were gathered there.

It was the first time she has been around any of them in more than a week, since the incident on the top floor.

When she stepped out onto the patio, the idle chatter stopped. A few looked at her, then looked away. Several didn't even acknowledge her.

Katsuro lingered just inside the doorway, and it gave Sakura time to check out the group. She noticed right away that a few were sporting bandages they'd not had on the trip up. Especially the biggest man. He had what appeared to be a few broken bones, and a broken nose. Sakura frowned lightly. Possibly even a broken jaw. Was this what he meant about healing them, she thought.

The men had taken a keen interest in her as she looked them over. And her interest in their wounds only stoked their anger. One thug stepped forward and spit at her feet. This brought a few of the others to look her over challengingly

Sakura squared her shoulders, not letting them stare her down, no matter what. Because of their intense training, she felt the self confidence that had always eluded her. She _knew_ she could take those jackasses. There was not a doubt in her mind.

She set her chin and surveyed them all cooly. They never came after her again, but she could see why he insisted she be able to defend herself. It was clear they'd kill her if they had the chance. The men only continued to glare, none bold enough to make the first move.

Katsuro must have thought it was too quiet out there because suddenly he appeared at her side. Taking a half-step in front of her, he put his hands on his hips and blocked her body with his just slightly. But the point was made.

"Get going," he commanded. They turned silently and left, filing down the narrow path away from the temple. None of them dared to look at her now.

Sakura watched them go, waiting for Katsuro. He pulled the door shut and barred it, then turned to her with a sand cloak in his outstretched hand.

The kunoichi took it with a grimace and slung it around her shoulders. As she snapped it into place she looked up to Katsuro who was just finishing. Tucked under the edge of his collar were the ragged face wraps, the ones he'd thrown off the first night. She had to look away, pushing down the sick feeling in her stomach.

"Come on," he said, eyeing her overly pale face. "We're going to stay a safe distance behind them this time."

And, true to his word, they did. Winding down the meandering path in the daylight, Sakura didn't know how they survived the journey up there. The side of the temple that hung off the mountain was beyond steep, beyond treacherous. She kept a hand on the wall just to remind herself that she was vertical, and not going to topple over the edge like a falling leaf.

They followed the thin path until it disappeared, then they kept going right along the ridge line, moving farther and farther away from the lonely temple. The landscape changed, the temple blocks receded, and only the natural boulders were left pitted among the huge trees. Sakura was just wondering why they didn't take this easier route when they turned sharply and began a descent down the other side of the ridge.

Almost immediately the landscape began to change. Big trees still clung to the ridge top, but as they descended through the folds of land, the forest became thinner and thinner. Sakura also noticed the temperature was rising. Not in the sticky, moist way she was used to from summers in Konoha. This heat was hot, dry and blowing, and gaining intensity.

Hardwoods gave way to bristling pines, then those receded from the heat as well, leaving only sun-loving vegetation to pop up here and there. Bushes with thin, prickling leaves surrounded the non-existant path and Sakura began measuring the journey by shady spots. Every so often they would round a wind-carved boulder or a spiky bush to find a tree growing stubbornly in spite of the terrain, it's trunk gnarled and hunched against the hot winds.

They had only been gone a few hours, but the difference was remarkable. A traveler would never know that beyond this arid, rocky landscape was a temple perched in a near rainforest at the top of the sky. It seemed like an oasis to her now.

Sakura watched the brown figure in front of her scale a large boulder then hop over the other side. She climbed it too, but her progress slowed to a halt. Wiping her sweat-slicked brow, she wondered if she could even see a trace of the green mountaintop, or if that too had been swallowed by by this unforgiving desert terrain.

Turning back, Sakura shaded her eyes and scanned the never-ending desolate ridge lines.

Finally she found it, but instead of the impossibly high mountaintop soaring over the earth, it was now just a sliver of green, torn between the rocky brown mountains and the wide blue sky. White clouds billowed past the thin, green line. It looked like you could run right up to the green and touch the cloud. But it was a mirage.

Below her gravel crunched, and she turned sad green eyes back to meet brown ones. Katsuro looked like he was born of the desert. Brown fatigues under a sand-colored cloak, even his dark hair and eyes blended in. Sakura squinted against the mockingly bright skies. She felt like she was going to blow away just looking at him.

"We can't stop out here, it's not safe," Katsuro called up to her. He looked past her shoulder to see what had caught her attention. When he realized that she was looking back toward the mountaintop, he only offered, "I know."

It was another sad irony. Yesterday Katsuro was telling her not to look back, now he wished he could go back too. He wished he could take back the things he'd said, he wished he had not wasted their last day in that safe haven.

Katsuro stepped up and held out his hand for her to leap off. She accepted silently.

"We'll stop soon, but we have a long way to go still," he said, and they quietly resumed their downward trek.

_

* * *

Chapter 11_

_Beside her, she heard Katsuro say cooly to the blonde, "May I help you with something?" _

_But the man only curled his lip into a mean smile. He leaned his head to the side, letting the breeze lift the long pale tendrils away from his face._

_"Who is your friend?" he drawled, looking around Katsuro trying to glimpse the kunoichi he had tucked under his arm._

_Sakura knew she couldn't hide, knew she needed to respond. She set her chin and squared her shoulders. If she was terrified inside, then it didn't show on the surface._

_"You have remarkable hair, my dear," the blonde said, raising an eyebrow with interest as he settled his gaze on her. _

_Katsuro tightened his hand over hers reflexively. Only her medical training told her the temperature of the body she was pressed tightly against had spiked just then._

**

* * *

Author's notes:**

This chapter was to include a lot more action, but there were some scenes that needed to be presented here to support events down the line...so to keep the story flowing smoothly, I had to bump the action to the next chapter. But this chapter fulfills another emotional connection they have to make. Last two chapters he recognized her as a teammate, now he realizes he wants to keep his attachment to her in the face of their different worlds, next chapter he has to decide how far he's willing to go to protect that attachment.

And hopefully some of Katsuro's backstory is starting to fill in. There will be more and more each chapter.

Please read and review!

Moldock, about Katsuro's knowledge of Konoha jutsus, here's the thing about being Itachi's protege: Katsuro has basically been raised as a Leaf nin. He knows all the jutsus, the command structure, the gear, everything is the same. Because that's all Itachi knows too, even though he's gone to the dark side.

Thanks so much for the reviews, they mean so, so, so much! Cupcake, kimiss, animemistress and celious, it makes me really happy to hear that you enjoy the descriptions. I try to paint a picture when I'm writing it, so thanks for your positive words! And I'm glad the painting scene came across ok, was worried about that. Kungfu, I'm afraid that this one was even more transitional than the last, but it's much faster next week! JNottle, don't worry. Naruto is nothing if not an overachiever.

**Chapter 10 Notes**

• This chapter is more about Katsuro's feelings than anything else. He has to decide whether to attach himself to her or not. This is also the start of him going against Itachi's wishes. It's still passive, but it's there nonetheless.

• _He had simply gotten too close to her, and it made him feel like he'd left an opening._ — this gut reaction that he has will be one that stays with him a long time.

• _"They were going to kill me. Itachi found me before they could." _— Katsuro believes this. Itachi supports this. Whether it's true or not, he'll have to discover for himself.

• (Added late on 6/5!) _Birds took to wing, glistening black in the golden afternoon light, endlessly flitting and darting, skimming insects out of the breeze. Still, she did not stir from that spot._ — Slightest foreshadowing as to what is bearing down on her. It is not necessarily a pretty afternoon picture — these birds are picking off insects unawares. And, of course, glistening black birds corresponds to Itachi (This is one of those little references that are not really meant to be picked up, but are there anyway. I was going to write a sentence about the sunset anyway, to give a sense of the time of day, so I might as well tie it in to Sakura's fear!)


	11. Encounter

Chapter 11 - Encounter

A pink tongue flashed once, twice, then was gone. Thin brown knees bent, and the lean body curved trying to circulate the still air around it. Even in the dugout hollow under the huge sandstone boulder, the air was still stifling.

A steady crunching was fast approaching the hidden spot, though vibrations rippling beneath the sandy soil had long ago given away the presence of intruders.

Glassy brown eyes looked out, waiting, still as the stone above it. But a quick tip of the head gave its presence away. A puff of dust from passing boots clouded over the hole, and then there was nothing more to see.

Sakura frowned. She had caught the movement too late. By the time she pulled her boot to a stop the lizard had already disappeared back under his rock.

She stooped to inspect the vacant hole anyway, thinking she'd gladly trade places with him. But from several steps ahead her companion flashed a glance back at her, and she knew she must continue her march.

The sun was high in the sky, and there was no angling her body to keep any part in shade. The heat seemed to bake them from all sides now.

Sakura licked her lips reflexively, then wished she hadn't. The neverending wind — sometimes fierce blasts, sometimes only ragged puffs, but always, always hot — was beginning to take it's toll. Her face was tight, and the dry air was stripping any moisture away almost immediately, making her lips only chap more.

'Surely we'll stop soon,' she thought, looking tiredly at the triangle shape of cloak that was quite a ways in front of her.

He moved briskly over the land, always watching where they were going, yet never unsure of himself. Sometimes he followed a sandy path, sometimes they scuttled over rocks. Again, no marks. Either he was an expert tracker, or he had traveled this so many times he knew it by heart.

Ahead of her, lizards twisted their heads out from under rocks. But almost as soon as the creatures were in sight they disappeared with a flick. By the time Sakura passed their little holes they were long gone. If she hadn't seen those creatures on the trail ahead, she would have thought they were completely alone out here.

Sakura licked her lips again without thinking. They dried immediately, leaving them only more tight. Dammit, she thought with a huff. The heat was numbing her brain.

"Hey," she called up to Katsuro to get her mind off her leathering skin. He turned his head a fraction. "Do you know where we're going?"

He snorted immediately, and she rephrased her question. "I mean, are we following a trail...or a direction or..."

"These are animal paths, been here for eons," Katsuro's voice crackled to life. They hadn't spoken in hours, both reserving their energy in the oppressive heat.

Sakura was skeptical though. "How do you know where to go, what to follow? We have gone over lots of areas where there is no trail at all."

At that moment, the dusty path terminated at another rock to be scaled. Sakura flashed her palm at the boulder to prove her point.

Katsuro looked at her, cheeks unnaturally pink from the heat and sun, clearly debating whether to answer. It was apparent, though, that neither were anxious to move on from the thin shade.

"If you're life depends on something, you memorize every inch of it," he said with a sigh.

"So your whole group travels this way a lot?" the kunoichi said, leaning her head against the rock.

"No," he said distractedly, peering around curve of the boulder. "Only a couple have ever been this way. Other than me." He pointed to the top, ending their conversation.

Beyond the boulder, they continued on the thin gravel path and passed several more trees, each casting a lacy shadow on the dry ground. Sakura hoped they would stop, but Katsuro passed each cool spot at the same clip.

She stopped looking, stopped hoping. Instead, she watched his shoes as they plodded over the sun-baked earth. Gravel and shadow blurred together beneath her.

Head bowed, she was still moving forward in this manner when the heels in front of her stopped suddenly. It took all of her training to not plow right into Katsuro.

"They've stopped ahead," he said, nodding to the clutch of men in the shade of a tree up the trail, "so this is far enough for us."

Just in front of them, a gnarled tree grew out of a crack in a smooth yellowed boulder. It's branches arced out over the path, and leaves jangled like dusty, green coins from the twisting, thorny limbs. But the mottled shade was just as good any from Konoha's majestic hardwoods, Sakura thought.

She collapsed against the rock and stretched her hot feet out in front of her.

Nearby, Katsuro squatted in the shade but didn't rest. He passed back an orange from his rucksack, which she accepted now simply to quench her thirst.

She peeled the fruit and scanned the terrain. All around them, rocky folds of land rippled in the midday heat.

Sucking the orange segment, Sakura thought about her more pressing concern. She had told herself she would look for a way to escape on the way back down, but making a break here would surely end in death if you didn't know where you were going.

Beside her, glassy eyes blinked lazily from under the curve of the boulder. But just as Sakura moved for a closer look, the lizard darted out of sight. She sighed, pinched off a few tiny teardrops from the orange segment and laid them in the dust at the edge of his hole anyway.

"Things are going to get harder from here on out," she heard Katsuro say. "I'm not going to let you out of my sight now, ok?"

Sakura turned back and looked past him to see what had brought out such a statement. Far beyond them the men were grouped together in the shade, reminding Sakura of a pack of dogs. They were restless, talking, kicking the dirt, and conspicuously looking up the trail at them.

"Harder...you mean, with them?" she said in hushed tones. Just seeing the men down there gave her the feeling of being quarry.

"Well, them, and anyone else we might run across," he said.

Sakura waited till he'd turned back, then scanned the ridge lines sharply. Maybe this desert wasn't as desolate as it appeared.

"Could someone else find us out here?" she asked quietly. Her thoughts skipped ahead without an answer, though. If she could leave a sign, something showing that she'd been here, then—

Katsuro pivoted on his feet and swiftly stopped her line of thinking.

"We don't want to be found," he said shaking his head, eyes serious. "Not out here."

She blinked at him, watching him stand and refasten his rucksack, waiting for an explanation.

"Nomads, not fond of trespassers. And where there's one, there are plenty more," he said, nodding for her to stand. "As long as we keep moving fast, they won't get interested. More energy to catch us than is worth. But if we slow down, we're in trouble."

He scuffed at the dirt, hiding the obvious marks where she'd been sitting.

"And as long as we don't disturb anything, no one will know we've been here," he said.

His attention settled on the little pieces of uneaten fruit. She looked at it too, about to explain, when a brown flash darted out, snapped it's pink mouth over the orange drops and disappeared.

Sakura couldn't hold back her surprised laugh. A pleased smile tugged up the corners of Katsuro's mouth.

"Well, that takes care of that," he said, smiling at her before drawing up the hood on his tan cloak. Sakura frowned lightly at his action.

"Hoods on, all the time now," he said in response to her unasked question. "Especially you, pinky," he added with a quick point to her hair.

The kunoichi pursed her lips in irritation at his epithet, which only brought a wider grin from Katsuro. He figured that'd get her, and he was right. She flipped hers over with a snap.

"Let's go," he said, chuckling softly, but his smile was already beginning to slip. By the time they'd stepped back out into the sun his easy manner had evaporated.

"Just stay close, and we'll be fine," he said tightly, eyes on the group ahead.

They started to move, and the men down the road picked up the pace as well. Sakura adjusted the hood, but could not shake the doomed feeling that washed over her now.

She was on her way down. Toward more men like them. Toward Itachi. Toward whatever fate awaited her that she would not go home from.

Katsuro's tension fueled hers. They continued the journey in silence, trekking down one rock-strewn ridge line after the next. By midafternoon, the blue sky had been lost completely behind a yellow haze, and Sakura's fears were threatening to consume her.

"Is everyone in your camp like them?" she said, just to fill the spaces between her thoughts.

"What?" he said, distractedly dragging a hand across his sweaty forehead. "Do you mean, like thugs?"

"Well, yeah. Actually, why do you even have them with you?" she said, glad to have something to land her thoughts on.

"They are my team. Like yours, I suppose," he said.

"My team works together, or is supposed to," she mumbled. "But it seems like you only keep those guys around just for the ambushes."

Katsuro went very quiet.

"Oh," she said. It all made sense. Those men ambushed, did the crimes, while someone like Katsuro ran the operation. That's why he knew the trails so well. If it turned bad, Katsuro could get away, with the loss of a few men who looked like a disorderly bunch of thugs.

"You're entirely too smart for you own good, you know," he said, cutting his eyes back at her. She caught his glance, but the flash of a half-smile let her know she was still in safe territory with him.

"Then why are they so hellbent on sabotaging you?" she said.

"They just do what they're told," Katsuro said, frowning. "And they're waiting to see if I'll fuck up."

He narrowed his eyes as he watched their backs bob and sway down the trail from them.

But his comment made Sakura feel awful. She had fucked up, just like her teammate told her she would. And now she was being marched toward her fate.

"What's going to happen to me?" she said quietly, hoping this time he would tell her.

He just shrugged, avoiding an answer. He made it a point to never think too deeply about anything that goes on in the camps, never look too hard or ask too many questions.

"Is Itachi going to kill me?" she said again. "Am I marching to my death? Please tell me because I'll take my chances with them—" she said desperately, but Katsuro didn't want to hear it.

"Just tell Itachi what he wants to hear," he said neutrally. "Tell him about his brother. That's all he wants."

The kunoichi snorted. "Right. And then he's going to let me just walk out of camp? Give me directions back to Konoha?" she said, her voice growing watery.

Staring hard at the line of Katsuro's cloak in front of her, she could see his shoulders were tensed. He clearly didn't want to talk about it, but she pushed on.

"There is nothing I can tell him about Sasuke. Nothing," she said.

"Don't be stupid," he snapped. "There's always something—"

"No, there's nothing," she repeated quickly. "I know nothing about him."

"Bullshit. You're teammates. There are things you know that could be valuable," he said.

"No. You don't understand. He hates me. Like you said about your teammates, he wants to see me fail," the kunoichi said, adding quietly, "and he doesn't have to look far."

Katsuro turned back to her quickly, his deep scowl and dark eyes only a thin veneer for the anger she knew was just beneath the surface. But Sakura didn't care any more — she wasn't lying to him. This whole journey a waste of their time. Whatever Itachi wanted, she didn't have it to give. There was no reason to hold back that truth now.

"The reason we're on this mission is because of me, because I got us into trouble in the village," she said earnestly, forcing herself to continue. "Then, out here, I go and get abducted for information. But I have nothing to tell. Nothing," she said, splaying her hands out in front of her.

"And now I'm going to die for the one person who says I'm useless, that I'm the dead weight on the team. You want information about him, and I'm even going to fail at that," she finished hastily, voice cracking.

Sakura scrubbed a hand across her face in frustration, trying to keep pointless tears at bay.

"We're not teammates. He tried to get me removed from his team," she said with a bitter laugh. "He probably never even reported me missing."

The kunoichi stopped suddenly, a look of breathless horror splashed across the her face. Sakura was not entirely serious when she'd said it, but she'd hit upon a true enough scenario. She shook her head slowly back and forth in disbelief. It all made sense now.

"That's— that's why no one has ever come," she rasped, her voice thick with emotion.

Wide eyes pooled with tears. They broke and spilled in hot, thin streaks down her face. The kunoichi brought a hand to her mouth, trying to hold in a sob, gaze pinned unseeing on Katsuro's slackening face, but she was powerless to hold back the flood of despair. She couldn't even speak. The awful truth swept her under — she had been abandoned by the ones who were supposed to protect her.

Sakura curled her shoulders and buried her face in her hands under the hood of her cloak. The tan fabric shook with her sobs.

There, adrift on a barren desert ridge line, the undeniable truth laid bare in the blistering sun, the young Leaf kunoichi unraveled.

Katsuro looked on helplessly. Anger and pain warred within him. He hated Konoha more than ever now. And her teammate, that bastard Uchiha, well he wanted to snap him in half. But he also had a strong urge to stop her tears, to stop the pain she felt, which was aching in him too now. He wanted to make her feel better for both of them. When had he grown so attached to her? When had she slipped inside and become part of him?

A hot wind pressed down on both of them, but the flicker of movement in the dried brush around them brought Katsuro back to reality. They were endangering themselves by staying in one place for so long.

"Come on," he said quietly. Katsuro reached down and curled his fingers around her soft forearms, pulling her hands from her face. Pink blotches crept up her throat. She coughed raggedly and brushed the tears from her cheeks, but the light in her green eyes was gone.

The kunoichi only pushed her lips together and nodded when he said lamely, "We've got to keep moving."

Hollow footsteps and the occasional soft sound of her crying were the only things accompanying them on the trail the rest of the long evening. The sun had slid beyond the farthest ridges, but the sky still hung heavy over both of them. The heat of the day seemed to be trapped beneath the pale blue bowl; the loss of the blazing sun gave neither of them any solace.

Katsuro silently walked in front of her, cycling through what he knew of her and where she had come from. There were definitely things that bothered him, and he wanted some answers.

"Did your teammate really say those things to you?" Katusuro bit out. "About being useless, and all that?"

"Yeah," the kunoichi answered tiredly. "He said a lot more than that."

Katsuro couldn't respond. It angered him. Deeply.

A familiar fury threatened to grind up his insides, but thankfully seeing the men loitering far up the trail took his mind away from his useless anger.

"They've stopped up ahead. We'll stay here for the night," Katsuro said, pointing to an outcrop of large wind-carved stones at the crest of the ridge. The rocks would provided natural protection, and it's position made it easy to watch for unwanted visitors, be it from his group or from roaming thugs _not_ organized into a unit, he thought.

The pair collapsed against the rock, both truly exhausted.

Katsuro leaned his head back and looked up at the night's first cold stars, unable to shake his tension. But beside him the kunoichi pulled up her knees up and buried her head. She tried to hold off her tired tears, but they came on soon enough anyway.

And Katsuro couldn't take it.

He wanted to reach over and ruffle her hair, shake her shoulder, something to quiet the muffled sobs, but he couldn't bring himself to do it.

"I'm going up top to take a look around," he said brusquely, knowing that there was no need to climb the rock they were leaning against. They'd had a clear view of their surroundings all evening.

She took no notice, though. He wasn't even sure she knew he'd left.

Safely ensconced on the top of the rock, distancing himself from her tears, Katsuro set about scanning the area for any anomalies in the landscape.

But he couldn't hold his focus for long. He thought back to his unanswered question from the night before.

Was he just going to hand her over? Walk away, pretend that he didn't care what happened to her?

No, she didn't deserve to suffer at Itachi's or anyone else's hands. And she didn't deserve this fate because of Itachi's bastard of a brother, he thought angrily.

Katsuro made it a point to never look too closely at what happened to the people brought in to camp for information. Up until now, they all seemed to be thugs, men on the shady side of a deal. Someone no one would miss. Someone who probably deserved what they got, he told himself.

But she didn't.

Katsuro sat still for a long time, eyes roving the jagged line where luminescent blue firmament met ink-black earth. There had not been a single movement. If the desert dwellers had not crawled out of the rocks by this time, then they would probably have an uneventful night, he thought.

Relaxing his shoulders, Katsuro kicked his legs out in front and leaned back on his elbows. He held his breath and listened for the kunoichi. No noise meant she had finally worn herself out from crying.

Katsuro sighed.

She was worried about what was going to happen to her, and to be honest, he was worried too.

He understood how she felt, that you'd never be good enough, that you could be discarded so easily. Yes, he thought bitterly, he knew exactly how she felt, probably better than anyone else. After all, hadn't Konoha done it to him too?

If her team didn't want her, and her village didn't care, then she had nothing to go back for either. Aside from some lingering loyalty, there was nothing else tying her to that damn place.

He started to look at all her options to survive this ordeal. Maybe if she told Itachi everything, and he vouched for her abilities, Itachi would let her stay on with his group. She was far better than any of the usual thugs rounded up, he thought. And it wouldn't be the first time they'd recruited a village shinobi...

What if she could stay...

Katsuro clasped his hands beneath his head and kicked one foot over the other. He stared up into the night sky, letting his mind wander, thinking about how it would work, how he could convince Itachi. He imagined missions, training and sparring, growing stronger together as partners...as teammates.

A bright, warm feeling unfurled in his chest. The thought was a spark of hope in the darkness.

"Katsuro?" a soft voice came whispering up from below the rock.

"Yeah?" he answered back.

"Are you ok? Do you want to switch?" she said.

Katsuro frowned, then scooted over to the edge, keeping his body low to the warm rock. He hung his head over and looked at her inquisitively. There was enough light from the sliver of moon to see her face. She was waiting for an answer, but he still didn't know quite what she meant.

"Do you need me to take a watch? So you can get some rest?" she said.

He couldn't help but smile. Wasn't this the answer to his question? He was wondering what it would be like to have her as a teammate, and she already was. It had been right in front of him all along and he just couldn't see it.

Looking down at her tired face, his mind fell into the slipstream of what he would do for her if _he_ was her teammate. How far would he go?

There were simply no limits, he decided.

Katsuro knew then what he had to do. He had to get her through this mess somehow.

"No. We're safe here. I'm coming down," he said, and swung his legs over to slide down the steep side of the boulder.

Rucksack in hand, he sat down beside her on the gravel.

"You ok?" he said.

She shrugged, looking away. Katsuro sighed.

He didn't want to lie to her, but he wanted to give her hope. He didn't know how he was going to talk Itachi in to letting her stay with his group, but that's what he intended to do, he thought firmly.

"We need to rest as much as we can. Tomorrow will be just as hard," he said.

She still didn't say anything, just hooked her hands in front of her bent knees. He slipped the thin blanket from the bottom of the bag and laid it where her head would lie. He flattened out the top of rucksack on the ground and tried to get as comfortable as possible on the scrap of fabric.

"If you tell him what he wants to hear, I think he'll let you out of this," Katsuro said. "Itachi's not that bad."

The kunoichi, though, had a very different opinion. From what she knew of him, there was no way Itachi was going to 'let her out of this.' He wasn't going to let her return home. She didn't know what Katsuro was thinking.

She leaned her head back on the blanket-pillow he'd made for her. Looking askance, she could see him rearranging his back pack for maximum comfort. He wouldn't find any there, she thought.

Sakura frowned into the darkness. Really, what was he thinking? Telling her she was going to make it, sacrificing his comfort for hers — why did he go so far for her?

Sakura sighed. Though she couldn't believe in it, just offering some hope made her feel better. His kindness made her feel less alone. He had changed in the time she'd known him. At least to her, he had. She couldn't trust him, not implicitly, but she felt like she had a partner in this mess. Everything about him said it. And for that she was grateful, no matter what happened to her.

Her life in Konoha was as far away as those stars. But this boy and his little kindnesses were the only things keeping her afloat now.

A dreadful thought occurred to her: What if she had been caught by one of the men in the group ahead of them? She smothered the mental image and sat up quickly. But thinking of the clear differences between him and his group spurred her to make an impulsive decision.

The kunoichi snatched up the blanket from behind her and refolded it hastily into a long, thin rectangle.

"Lift up," she said over her shoulder. Katsuro slowly sat up on his elbows. Ignoring the questioning frown on his face, she turned back and quickly shoved the rucksack out of the way, replacing it with the strip of blanket. It was just long enough for them to share now.

Unable to look at him, not wanting to explain, she quickly laid down on her side, back to Katsuro, and pulled the cloak over her tucked-up legs. She wasn't cold, it just made her feel safer.

"Th-Thanks," came his startled voice in the darkness. His elbows slowly slid down and the blanket shifted under the additional weight. Sakura closed her eyes, exhaled and tried to rest. He was right, if they were safe now she should conserve her energy. There was no telling what the next day would bring. Beside her, Katsuro sighed deeply.

* * *

Morning light streaked across the jagged landscape, and almost immediately the air temperature started to rise. But the group had been up before the sun, picking their way in the cooler, pre-dawn glow. Now she was glad for that early start. Sakura reached a hand under her cloak and pushed the sweaty spikes of hair out of her eyes. Ahead of her, Katsuro adjusted his hood against the sun. She could tell he was beginning to feel the heat too.

Around them the land creased and folded in barren slopes. The farther they went, the less vegetation there was. Pin-leafed shrubs replaced the weather-worn trees, but the bushes grew so close to the ground they provided almost no shade. Even the lizards seemed to have abandoned the land now.

Sakura shielded her eyes at one vantage point, trying desperately to see anything other than endless brown ridges. But there was no break in the pattern. There would be no escaping from here, she thought.

Katsuro stopped and looked back at her, eyes tired but still urging her on. They were both in too deep to stop now, they had to push through. She nodded and fell back into step behind him. Sakura didn't have the heart look up again. Instead she kept her eyes to the ground and let the sound of Katsuro's steady footfalls mix in with her own.

Slowly trekking over the unforgiving terrain, the better part of the day crept by in that heavy silence.

"Almost there," Katsuro rasped finally. He cleared his throat. "Look," he said, pointing to a thin line of green a few ridges beyond them. Sakura would have dismissed the out-of-place color as a mirage. She blinked at it, but couldn't be truly happy. It was still hours away. And though a cool, leafy valley was alluring after this grueling journey, she didn't want to think about what else might be waiting for her in the shade of those trees.

If that was their destination, she thought tiredly, she'd just as soon die out here. But her feet carried her on anyway.

They covered more ground, the slice of green bobbing in and out of view behind brown ridge lines, until finally they were upon it.

Slipping down through rising sandstone rocks, they followed a path to what Sakura thought was the desert floor. But the grey trail wound down even deeper into the rocks, and before she knew it they were following the path in between two sandstone walls. The cool air and blue-grey light in the crevasse was a balm, and Sakura began to revive a bit.

At the end of the narrow channel, crowns of brilliant green trees came into view.

A deep gorge had been carved into the sandstone, and the thin slice of green she'd caught glimpses of from the ridge top was practically hidden by the surrounding cliffs.

But what Sakura thought was a single valley, perhaps an oasis in the shade, was really a meandering forest that had sprung up around a desert river. The swath of woodland spread away from them on both sides, the end and beginning hidden by the folding canyon walls.

Sakura suspected that if this where Katsuro's group was hidden, then the woods probably went on like this forever in both directions. A newcomer could never find this place twice in a row.

But, she thought, eyes sharpening to scan the area, if there was a river, then it could be her lifeline out of here.

Before leaving the safety of the sandstone cliffs, Katsuro drew the leather binding from his pocket, the one he'd tied up her arms on the beginning of their journey. How differently he felt now, he thought. Face guilty, he held out the thin strap.

The corners of kunoichi's mouth dropped into a watery frown at the sight of the bindings, but she didn't resist.

Silently, she put both hands in front of her, but Katsuro shook his head.

"No, just one hand. They'll be watching for us, so you still need to look the part," he said.

Katsuro wrapped the binding around one wrist and had nearly finished when Sakura felt her arm twisted out a little more than was necessary, exposing her inner arm. She knew the long crescent scar was there, where the skin had been ripped away by the bindings on the way up, forever marring the pale skin below the crease of her elbow.

Katsuro stopped wrapping, his hand hovered over her wrist. Sakura couldn't see his face, but his attention was fixed on something. He resumed the wrapping, though, and pushed the extra long tail in the kunoichi's palm.

"Not too tight, is it?" he asked, looking up into her face, brown eyes holding something more than just passing interest.

Sakura was beginning to understand his ways a little. He had seen her scar. The innocent question, the earnest look — he wanted her to know that he wouldn't willfully hurt her again. Her expression softened at his pointed concern.

"No, it's ok. Thanks," she said softly.

"Good," he said with a nod. "Now for mine."

Katsuro dug his finger under the collar of the Sand cloak, hooked the front of his face coverings and hitched it up over his nose.

Sakura's stomach did a somersault, and she had to look away. But she didn't have long to grapple with the fear that seeing the binding and face coverings dredged up.

A warm hand covered hers and pried back her tightly gripped fingers. She snapped back to look at his face as he pulled the long tail of the leather binding from her loosening fist. The pleasant crinkle at the corners of his eyes took the edge off her fear. At least she didn't feel as alone as the first time she did this.

But she couldn't ignore the sinking feeling that this might be her only chance to run. They left the shelter of the cliffs, picked their way down the crumbling slope, then walked side by side, crunching across clumps of dead grass that grew at the farthest edge of the valley floor.

Panic gripped her. She had to think, make a plan. She had to delay going into those woods.

"Why the mask now, with your own group, and not the whole way down," the kunoichi asked with false lightness. At the same time she stopped in her tracks.

He cast a puzzled glance at her and tugged the binding gently. She took a few slow steps as he answered.

"Because it's more dangerous in here than out there," he said simply. "Nomads don't care who you are when they rob you. But there are things more valuable to Itachi and the men he deals with than money," he said quietly, thinking of his own role in this shadowy world. "The money only keeps everything else going."

Sakura went numb beside him and slowed to a stop again. Katsuro's words only deepened her fears. He tugged again on her bindings. She began walking only out of reflex.

"I have nothing that will be of any value to Itachi," she said flatly, shaking her head. Katsuro frowned but said nothing. He kept going, now half-pulling her across the dried grasses.

But the kunoichi stopped again, knowing only certain death waited for her in those woods. That thought alone was enough to shake her out of the paralyzing fear. Her feet sunk in the sand between clumps of brown grass. This time she would go no further.

"I am going to die here!" she whispered at him as she resisted another pull on the bindings. "I'm not going to be allowed to just walk away. You think I don't know what Itachi's capable of?" she said desperately, flinging back her hood. "I'd rather die on my own in the woods than—"

"Stop," he said, moving to cut her off. "Just stop. You don't know anything for certain and neither do I."

He drew up directly in front of her, never letting go of the binding. The free hand reached past her shoulder and drew the hood back over her head. But instead of letting go of the fabric, he slid his hand down to the collar and pulled her a little closer. Eyes darting warily at the cliffs around them, Katsuro leaned his head in to whisper fiercely.

"All I know..." he said, but his voice came out muffled. Jerking the face cover down, he grabbed the outside of her shoulder tightly and began again. "All I know is that if you run you will be killed, and there is absolutely nothing I could do to stop that. But if you stay with me and cooperate, then maybe he'll let you out of this."

"And what if he doesn't? What then?" she retorted desperately. They were so close the front of her hood grazed his as she spoke. She searched his face for some sign of a solution.

"Then...I'll..." but he really didn't know what he'd do. He wanted to fulfill his mission and satisfy Itachi, but he wanted to allay her fears too. It was too much to hope for that Itachi would let her just walk away, but he wouldn't think of the other alternative.

A delicate cough came from the woods and both froze. Wind rattled through the dead grasses around them, moving both of their cloaks together.

Katsuro had been so preoccupied he let his guard down to his surroundings. He peered at her in the heavy silence, brown locks swaying across his forehead. He mouthed a "shh" but made no sound.

Sakura held her breath and nodded her head imperceptibly. The need to be self-protective was familiar territory and gave her something to cling to. Fear driven from her face, her green eyes focused on Katsuro's brown ones with clarity of purpose.

With a single nod, he withdrew his hand, drug the concealments back over his face and turned slowly.

Waiting there in the shadow of a tree was a man in brown fatigues with similar concealments across his face.

Katsuro's shoulders relaxed and he tugged lightly on the leather strap. Sakura knew there was no choice but to follow. As she walked, she watched the man from under the shadow of the hood. He was very curious about her, she could tell, and was just tipping his head for a better look when Katsuro blocked his view.

"You have a message?" Katsuro snapped.

"Itachi would like for you to take the lower road," the man said. "Things are taking longer in camp than was expected."

Katsuro nodded and the shadow clone evaporated. They walked through the residual cloud into the woods.

Still holding the leather binding, Katsuro reeled in the excess length, so that she was quite close to him, their shoulders bumping every so often. They headed directly to the river then turned to walk along its flat, winding banks. Sakura decided it wasn't so much of a road as a natural clearing beside the wide, rock-strewn river.

She didn't think it any safer here than the exposed ridge lines, but the steady bubbling of water, and the soft grass on the banks masked their sounds. No one could hear their movements at all.

"Just don't run, ok?" he said under his breath, pushing back his hood.

She slid hers off as well, but didn't answer.

They followed the 'lower road' for quite a while. Sakura's gaze darted over the ground as they walked, anxiously preparing herself for what she might face at the end of this road, when Katsuro's tight voice startled her.

"Stay close," he said, fingers grazing her arm.

Two shapes were coming toward them on the trail. The light at their backs, both were silhouetted, but Sakura thought one might be a pack animal as it walked with such a strange gait.

Beside her Katsuro was on high alert.

He drew the thin leather closer and closer to him, until there was no more left. Then, never taking his eyes from the oncoming travelers, he slid his fingers down the wraps of leather and caught up her hand, crushing it in his own with the wad of binding.

With her arm caught between his elbow and his ribcage, she was locked to him, her bindings effectively hidden from view by his arm and the edge of his cloak. Tucked so close together, the picture they presented was very different from reality.

Sakura quickly decided whoever this was, Katsuro did not trust them. If he thought it was safer to give the impression they were romantically linked, then this was probably not someone she should trust either.

'Fake it, fake it, fake it,' she told herself, and pushed her fingers deeper into his grasp. Katsuro tightened his hand at first, thinking she was trying to pull away, but slackened his grip a fraction so she could spread her fingers and wrap her thumb around the back of his hand. The bindings were completely hidden between their two palms.

He gave her hand a quick squeeze, but it didn't register with Sakura. Her eyes were transfixed on the men, two of them actually, that were taking shape in front of her.

One man was tall with deceptively serene features. A blonde ponytail fluttered and danced as he fixed his attention on the girl. Laughing blue eyes took in her whole figure, and he flipped back a lock of sunny hair to flash her an arrogant smile. He looked as if he could have just come from a village festival instead of a den of thieves. To Sakura, that swaggering alone meant he was either very stupid or very powerful.

But his traveling partner, the one she had mistaken for an animal, sent a real tremor of fear through the kuniochi.

His figure was nearly doubled over when compared to the man beside him. Only a few shocks of bristled black hair streaked over his scalp, and his face was partially hidden by a ragged triangle of fabric. He swiveled his head and fixed cruel black eyes on her.

But something was horribly wrong with him, and Sakura couldn't tear her eyes away.

As he approached, she could hear a faint rattle and clack that kept time with his lurching gate. Impossibly, Sakura thought it sounded like his bones moving.

The long red and black cloak that swirled elegantly around the blonde was draped across the hunched man like a tablecloth. It tipped off at odd angles as he moved closer, and the whole back of it dragged on the ground, leaving a half-moon trail sidewinding in it's wake.

Intuition caused the hairs on the back of her neck to prickle up. These men were predators. And she still wasn't sure the hunched man was fully human.

"I told you this was the right path to leave by, Sasori no danna," she heard the blonde man laugh smoothly. "Sometimes you have to go to extra lengths for something interesting."

A few moments later, though, she heard him grumble, "of course that bastard Itachi would try to throw us off."

The other man, named Sasori, Sakura noted, snapped at the taller one.

"Shut up, you fool," he growled deeply.

Both parties were silent as they walked the last few paces to their inevitable meeting on the path.

Katsuro grasped her hand tightly and Sakura schooled her features, hiding her fear behind a look of disinterest.

They came within a few feet of the other men, and Katsuro stepped to one side of the path, pushing the kunoichi to the outside. He nodded deferentially and made to pass them, when the blonde man snorted.

"Here we've come all this way to see you. And this is the greeting we get?" he said to Katsuro. But his attention was already shifting to the girl.

Katsuro stepped forward to continue walking, edging the kunoichi up slightly in front of him, but the one called Sasori was quicker.

Sakura couldn't keep her eyes from going wide when a long skeleton tail whipped out from underneath the cloak, arced into the air and held it's flicking end just off the ground in front of her. The whole thing clattered softly as it moved. Sakura's stomach tightened. So that was the sound, she thought.

If they wanted them to stop, then they succeeded. She and Katsuro were boxed in.

Beside her, she heard Katsuro say cooly to the blonde, "May I help you with something?"

But the man only curled his lip into a mean smile. He leaned his head to the side, letting the breeze lift the long tendrils away from his face.

"Who is your friend?" he drawled, looking around Katsuro trying to glimpse the kunoichi he had tucked under his arm.

Sakura knew she couldn't hide, knew she needed to respond.

She thought of the things he'd told her, how she should react in this situation. Not be afraid. Even if you feel it. Hide it. This isn't a test or a class. There is no pass or fail. This is survival.

She couldn't fight her way out, but she could fake it.

Sakura took a half step forward from out of his shadow and mimicked Katsuro's disdainful attitude.

She set her chin and squared her shoulders. If she was terrified inside, then it didn't show on the surface.

"You have remarkable hair, my dear," the blonde said, raising an eyebrow with interest as he settled his gaze on her.

Katsuro tightened his hand over hers reflexively. Only her medical training told her the temperature of the body she was pressed tightly against had spiked just then.

But Sakura refused to be flustered. Taking her cue from Katsuro, she nodded deferentially to the blonde man as well, never taking her eyes off his blue ones. If Katsuro did it, she thought, then maybe playing along would get them out of this quicker.

But Sasori had been scrutinizing the girl while she was preoccupied with his partner. He noticed early on that she did not leave Katsuro's side. And when she did move, Katsuro's cloak moved with her. With her last shift of weight, the fabric gaped for a moment, giving the hunched man a clear view of the out-of-place leather wrapping up her arm.

"I think all is not as it seems," he grunted. The blonde shifted his gaze to his partner and waited with mild curiosity.

Sasori wielded his tail like a scorpion. It reared back and struck in a blur at the ground beneath the kunoichi. A sizable gouge was left where moments before her feet had been.

Sakura leapt straight into the air with a gasp, exposing the binding on her arm and knocking their cloaks away from both of them.

But Katsuro used the distraction to his advantage. No more need to hide, he let go of her hand and turned to face both opponents, pushing the kunoichi behind him as she landed. He dropped into his fighting stance and threw up a hand sign, watching both men to see who would strike next.

Wasting no time, Sakura sunk down into a defensive position as her feet touched the ground. Bending her knees, she pushed her foot closest to Katsuro, sliding up firmly behind his heel. Using a textbook position to guard Katsuro's back, Sakura angled her body to his so that they formed a loose, inverted "V" shape, and set her sights on Sasori.

Between them, the binding whipped free from her wrist, the long tail dangling down to their knees. But it didn't matter if these men saw it now. Sakura knew this was the flip side of faking it — when there was no way out but to fight through. And she was ready.

The blonde threw his head back and laughed. Sasori flicked his tail menacingly at them a few more times before he retracted it. But it still hovered at the ready, it's hollow knocking sound filling the air.

"That's more like it," the blonde man said, still chuckling. "Don't worry, we aren't interested in your little..." he said, eying her bindings with a half smile, "hostage?"

He rolled his fingers nonchalantly when he was sure he had the kunoichi's attention, and Sakura was horrified to see a matching smile shining back at her from the middle of his palm.

"So," Sasori grunted, "this is Itachi's contact?" The rest of his clattering tail slid back under his cloak. "I would have given him more credit than that." He stepped back slowly and resumed his lumbering walk up the path. He came to a halt behind partner, waiting.

Sakura glanced back at the arrogant blonde, hoping he would follow suit, but she caught sight of the grotesque mouth laughing at her from the middle of his hand. A pink tongue slipped out and glossed the lips before the whole thing curled into a malicious smile. Ripples of fear coursed up Sakura's midsection.

"Is there something I can help you with, Deidara-sama," Katsuro growled, when he didn't fall back with his partner.

"You have to ask?" the blonde drawled, slipping his hand down to his side, reaching for something hidden under his cloak.

"Deidara," Sasori said sharply and flicked his tail back out around the blonde. It hung in the air threateningly between the two parties, and Sakura wasn't sure who the target was.

"We have made our agreement, and you must comply," he said sternly.

"You don't have to remind me, Sasori no danna," Deidara grumbled, turning a shoulder petulantly at the hovering point of the tail. Sasori obviously thought this was a sufficient enough response. He withdrew the appendage with a long slow clatter and began his journey again, this time not bothering to wait for his companion.

Sakura thought this must be the end of their standoff.

But before Katsuro could back away, Deidara leaned close to issue another threat.

"You won't always be under his wing, Katsuro," he whispered harshly, his mouth curling now into a mean sneer.

The smooth lines of his face vanished. The cold blue eyes were unnaturally wide now, greedily devouring Katsuro as if he were a long-sought possession. Deidara ground his teeth, a small muscle at his jaw jerked against the tension, and he curled both hands into loose fists at his sides. Sakura wondered with disgust if he might have a mouth in both hands.

"You don't know what you're talking about," Katsuro said lowly, his own hands balled tightly.

In an instant, though, the blonde's bloodthirsty expression was gone, replaced by studied nonchalance.

"Oh I don't?" he laughed carelessly as he turned to follow his partner. "Well, we'll see about that," he said back over his shoulder with a laugh.

Katsuro turned to watch them go, still keeping the kunoichi safely behind him. Sakura didn't know what he was waiting for.

"Goodbye, pink-haired friend," Deidara said breezily to the trees.

"Come on," Katsuro whispered beside her when the men were a safe distance away. Katsuro turned and she automatically reacted to his urgency. They were already hurrying down the path when Sakura realized it was his hand in hers that was guiding her, the leather binding bouncing free around both their fingers. But there was no time to reflect on it.

A sickly pale creature fluttered past her shoulder to hover on the trail in front of her. It looked like a ghost of a butterfly, all it's beauty and color had been stripped away. But there was something unnatural in it's movements, as if it was looking for something or someone.

"Shit," Katsuro gasped. In the blink of an eye, he had pushed all his weight into her, diving into the safety of the tree line and forcing her down with him. Before they even hit the ground, the path and trees were rocked by a fireball explosion in midair.

Sakura's eyes were wide with the reflection of red flames. A few charred branches fell from some of the trees, and birds were scattering everywhere. Cruel laughter floated back up the path.

"You ok?" he said quietly, scanning the area.

"Yeah," the kunoichi said. Both stood quickly. "That butterfly was..."

Katsuro nodded and filled in what she suspected.

"A bomb," he said. "I think that was the only one, though."

"Was he trying to kill you?" she gasped.

"No," Katsuro muttered, as brushed leaves off his cloak. "He was just fucking around. If he wanted to kill us, we'd be dead already."

They skirted the blackened chunk of path and continued on in silence.

She had the binding clutched in her hand to keep it from dragging, and he no longer felt the need to hold on to her tightly. Now she knew why he'd said not to run, she thought wryly, why he'd said it was more dangerous in here than it was out there.

They continued on in the same close proximity as before, shoulders nearly touching, cloaks brushing up against each other. Katsuro was tense. Sakura meditated on the skill required to create a perfectly functional bomb like that. No small feat. No wonder...

"The cloak," she said quietly, "it matched Itachi's. Are they in the same group..." her voice thinned. But the answer sunk like a stone. Akatsuki.

Katsuro was silent. She looked to the side, studying his face. Finally he said, haltingly, "Don't think too much about what you see here, ok?"

She frowned. Sakura had a feeling he wasn't being purposefully cagey, but giving her an honest warning. There was danger in knowing too much.

"Well, what about them," she ventured, nodding back down the path. "Were they enemies of yours?" She wasn't even sure he would respond.

"No. _They_ are allies," Katsuro said, driving the point home. He cut his eyes at her quickly. "But you did good. Really good."

He stretched his fingers out to graze the back of her hand. Katsuro couldn't resist reaching out to her, reassuring her, as she had done for him the night in the temple. She was definitely scared, and though he knew it wasn't safe to tell her, he was going to do everything he could to get her through this.

Rough fingertips had only just touched her skin when voices ahead drew both their attention.

Katsuro felt her breath hitch beside him. He curled his hand back under his cloak, but did not step away from her.

A rough-looking older man stepped out on the trail ahead of them.

Sakura looked at him with interest, but as soon as he met her eyes he turned his face away.

"Katsuro," the man said gruffly, "Itachi-sama would like to see the prisoner immediately."

Katsuro was quiet. Sakura held her breath. Neither moved.

"Katsuro!" the man shouted in irritation.

"Hai, senpai," he answered finally.

_

* * *

Chapter 12_

_Katsuro was silent, trying to think of a way out for her. Itachi's genjutsus were cruel. If she cooperated, then maybe there wouldn't be a need for it. He made up his mind._

_"Listen closely," __Katsuro whispered quickly._ "Answer his questions, but don't look in his eyes. Look anywhere else on his face, but not his eyes." 

_"You want me to fight it?" she said in disbelief. Was he telling her to thwart his master? Then he'd surely kill her, she thought._

_"No. Cooperate. Tell him everything. Don't hold back. And you said so yourself, you don't know that much, so you don't need to hide anything. But don't get caught in his genjutsu," he said darkly. "If you do, then, there's no way out until he's finished with you."_

_The tents slowly moved into view as they approached. Sakura's heart hammered against her ribcage, her mouth went dry._

_"And don't look at his hands, either," Katsuro whispered hastily, remembering almost too late. But then, suddenly, there was no more time._

* * *

Hope you've enjoyed this chapter. It turned out way longer than expected, but I hope the narusaku goodness and the Akatsuki scene makes up for the strain on your eyeballs reading it! The up side is that next chapter brings back Itachi, more history revealed, more questions raised. There are extended author's notes about this chapter on my homepage (click link in bio).

Several reviewers have expressed concern about Katsuro's appearance, whether he's Naruto, and if he is, whether he's using a transformation jutsu. The short answer is yes. It will all be revealed — I promise! — but it just doesn't fit into the story yet. So read away and rest assured. It's Naruto. I swear it.

Please read and review!

Chapter 11 notes

• This chapter was about their journey together, more functioning as a team, developing their skills working together out of necessity. And about Katsuro's decision to stick up for her, help her survive the situation, however that may be. Poor Sakura's coming unglued, but she's holding together as best as she can. I don't want to portray her as crying and weak, but she's trapped in a terrifying situation. Her nin abilities and Katsuro's kindness carry her through, though.

• Lived for a time in the American southwest. The desert is more hot and desolate than you could ever imagine. Hope I've captured it, or at least presented a wide contrast to their wonderful time in the lush temple.

• _There, adrift on a barren desert ridge line, the undeniable truth laid bare in the blistering sun, the young Leaf kunoichi unraveled._ — This is the truth as it feels to her at that moment. But appearances, even the most convincing ones, are not always what they seem.

• _Sakura frowned into the darkness. Really, what was he thinking? Telling her she was going to make it, sacrificing his comfort for hers — why did he go so far for her?_ — Obvious Sasuke reference there, from the line Sasuke used on Naruto, "Why do you go so far for me?" No foreshadowing or anything, just to illustrate that Katsuro/Naruto is willing to go to endless lengths for those he cares about.

• Hope the encounter with Deidara and Sasori was good! They are both some of my favorite baddies. Sasori is creepy, Deidara is flippant. Both are cruel though. I hope I've conveyed those aspects.

• _Sasori no danna_ — I'm not a fan of gratuitous Japanese phrases, as I do not speak Japanese, but I couldn't bear to have Deidara call Sasori "my man" — it sounds too much like "home slice" or something equally stupid. Ugh! So opted for the Japanese here to show respect. (I've also used a few phrases and suffixes sparingly, but in context with the situation. It is an easy way of showing some of the hierarchy of the group without spelling it out. Hopefully I've not used it so much it stops the reader in their tracks.)

Animemistress, I have already written the whole chapter explaining how it happened. I agree, Itachi's an interesting character. Beyond working for good or bad, he was a master manipulator, and that's what I'm writing for. Kungfu, you're right on too. Katsuro/Naruto will have a lot to sort through before he gets to the truth behind Itachi's lies. And your thoughts about Naruto's treatment at the hands of the village are how I came to write this. Since they treated him so badly, why didn't the bad guys just go after him when he was young and would have left the village willingly. Oops, did I reveal too much? :)

cupcake, kimiss, celious2, thankyou so, so much. I'm working hard to have a realistic buildup of their feelings, so I appreciate your opinion that it's going smoothly.

narutorocks, your kindness knows no bounds! Glad I answered your question, ;) and I hope you like the upcoming chapters too!


	12. Teammates

Chapter 12 - Teammates

After following a few more curves in the river, Sakura looked up the flat bank to where an unassuming footpath spurred off, hopscotched across the water on broad stones, then rose with the land on the other side.

They followed the narrow trail down to the river's edge in silence. There was simply nothing more to say. But before she could sink her foot down onto the first stone, Katsuro laid a hand across her arm to stop her.

She did stop, and waited, watching him all the while, but Katsuro did not seem inclined to move. In fact he appeared to be deep in thought. However whatever was troubling him he quickly buried in activity.

The rogue turned back and, never looking directly at her, took up both hands in his. It was so formal and strange, such an out of place movement, that for an instant Sakura thought he was going to vow something to her. Clutch her hands, look into her eyes and make a rash promise of some sort. But it never came.

Instead he pushed her hands together, caught up the long leather strap and wrapped it snugly around her free arm, binding both together as he had done days ago.

She was a fool, she thought as she closed her eyes, blocking out the sight of unruly brown locks swinging over her arms. She needed to be making a plan, not wishing to be saved.

His task finished, Katsuro looked back across the river and blew out a low breath. Sakura just felt sick. Now, the silence was oppressive.

Finally, rough fingertips traced up the bindings past her elbow, grazing the rippled scar. Katsuro closed his hand around her upper arm and gave a slight squeeze, signaling it was time to move again.

They crossed the river and moved up the steeper bank until the land flattened out. Trees spread away from them on all sides, running right up to the high canyon walls. Sakura recognized a handful neatly organized tents nestled against the base of the cliff.

Though afternoon light streamed down to the valley floor and riverbed, it did not reach those tents. Like ghosts in shadows, they seemed to hover there, ominous and quiet. A limp breeze rippled the outside edges of pale canvas. The movement fluttered Sakura's insides with dread.

"Please," she let out a thin half-cry, her fears getting the best of her.

"Just tell me what he's going to do to me. I would rather know, and be ready," she whispered desperately. "Not knowing what's going to happen is worse."

Katsuro was robbed of a response. He had been where she was right now. Lived in it for years and years.

"You can't fake it through a genjutsu," she added.

"No," Katsuro answered slowly, never taking his gaze from the line of tents. "Just answer his questions."

He lapsed into silence again, trying to think of a way out for her. Itachi's genjutsus were nothing if not cruel. But if she cooperated, then maybe there wouldn't be a need for it. He made up his mind.

"Listen closely," Katsuro whispered, yanking his face wraps down. He urged her to continue walking, but dipped his head next to hers and spoke quickly. "Answer his questions, but don't look in his eyes. Look anywhere else on his face, but not his eyes." He knew she was familiar with genjutsu, but telling her how to fight Itachi's made him feel better anyway.

"You want me to fight it?" she said in disbelief. Was Katsuro telling her to thwart his master? Then he'd surely kill her, she thought.

"No. Cooperate. Tell him everything. Don't hold back. And you said so yourself, you don't know that much, so you don't need to hide anything. But don't get caught in his genjutsu," he said darkly. "If you do, then there's no way out until he's finished with you."

Katsuro didn't know if he could break Itachi's illusions, even a low level one. He'd never tried. But if all went well, he wouldn't have to. He was hoping that if she divulged what she knew, then Itachi would turn her back over to him. If Konoha didn't want her, and he could convince Itachi that she was a worthwhile ally, an excellent addition to their group, then the older nin could have no objections.

The tents loomed large in front of them, cloth sides snapped softly in the buffeting wind. Sakura's heart was hammering against her ribcage, her throat dry.

"Don't look at his hands, either," Katsuro whispered hastily, remembering almost too late. But there was no more time. The canvas flap pulled back and Itachi himself stepped out. His face was just as cold as she remembered.

The elder Uchiha sibling nodded curtly at Katsuro then ducked back inside the large tent, never sparing a glance at the kunoichi. He was obviously just coming to look for them.

Sakura ignored the stab of panic and focused on her companion's words. She would do her best to evade Itachi's genjutsu and answer whatever questions she could.

'Within reason,' she thought nervously, stepping under the fabric flap ahead of Katsuro.

The doorway swished closed behind them, and it was as if all the color had been drained from the world. Off-white fabric draped from the top and fell down the sides to form walls. Finely woven straw mats of the faintest yellow covered the floors, fitting together like a puzzle. Only a slim, dark brown table that doubled as Itachi's desk stood out, cutting a harsh line against the farthest wall.

Though the interior was larger than she expected, Sakura thought the colorless room was suffocating. But maybe that was the point, she thought darkly.

Itachi flicked a lazy finger toward the middle of the room, and Katsuro guided her over to kneel. Stealing a glance at him as she dropped down, the kunoichi was keenly aware that Katsuro would no longer make eye contact with her. Instead he stood beside her and faced his master.

Leaning casually against the desk, Itachi cleared his throat. Sakura turned instinctively at the sound, but remember Katsuro's warning at the last moment. She trained her eyes on the red cloud emblazoned across the front of his cloak. At the edge of her vision, she saw Itachi steeple his long fingers lazily in front of him.

The nukenin was deathly still except for the occasional tapping of his first two fingers together. Sakura drew in a long breath threw her nose, let it out slowly, and willed herself to wait it out. She didn't know why Katsuro told her not to look at his hands, but she would do as he said, no matter how many little innocuous movements Itachi made.

"I am surprised your sensei hasn't come for you," the man's deep voice broke the silence.

Sakura said nothing, but her eyes widened a fraction at his words. She had been surprised too. For Kakashi to leave her went against everything she knew about him.

"I know all about you, you see," Itachi continued pleasantly, letting his hands fall to his sides. His tone had changed, and he addressed her easily as if they were picking up their 'conversation' from days before. "You will find we have a lot in common."

Sakura felt queasy. Her thoughts had been clear on her face. She was giving too much away, and he was acting on it.

"I would like to know how some of my old compatriots are faring. Perhaps you could enlighten me," he voiced smoothly, letting the sentence hang there in the air.

The kunoichi didn't move though. Something in what he said, what he asked, didn't ring true. He was reading her smallest movements, looking for a connection. He was a master of genjutsu — a _master_ — and she knew the easiest illusions were built on trust or spun around some common chord that connected the wielder and his victim.

Sakura's mind went into overdrive, analyzing what she'd experienced, even as she sat still as stone. He wasn't asking specific questions, so he must not be looking for a certain answer. She knew, as he would too, that she would be guarded about her team, especially about Sasuke.

But maybe he was watching for something else. Sakura cast back to her first encounter with him. He had goaded her till she behaved the way he wished, drawing her eyes to his face. He was testing her responses, looking for reactions.

She couldn't fathom why, but now she had something to go on, and she would thwart him as best as she could.

The kunoichi clamped down her jaw and stared hard at that blood red cloud. She wouldn't answer, and she wouldn't let any feeling float to the surface, no matter how intimidating he was.

Itachi didn't miss that change either.

"Konoha has fed you many lies, I see," he continued, the false pleasantness gone from his voice.

But the medic-nin didn't flinch.

"I wonder if you are as weak as your teammate, my younger brother, always stumbling, always failing. A disgrace to the Uchiha clan," he bit out.

"Then again, no. You have been left behind. Konoha has deemed your usefulness at an end," he sneered at her. "They would never let Sasuke out of their sight now. He is a prize to be protected above all things, isn't he." He paused, but she never wavered.

"Sasuke's life in return for his betrayal of the clan, I think that was the arrangement he had with Konoha," Itachi continued, observing the girl closely.

Sakura had never heard that version of events, but it would do no good to trust in them. She didn't know much about Itachi, but she was certain he would go to great lengths to get what he wanted. And now he wanted something from her. Though inwardly chilled, Sakura put on an air of nonchalance, half-lowered her eyelids in boredom. She was about to add a yawn to her repertoire when Itachi snapped.

"It seems Konoha has gotten one thing right, though" he growled. She allowed herself a glance at the thin line of his mouth. It folded into a deep frown. "They have already seen you for what you are: a waste of their time. Just as you are a waste of mine."

Itachi pushed off from the desk, cloak swirling at his ankles, and returned to the other side of the table. He motioned to Katsuro as he walked.

Shoulders tightening minutely, the younger nin obliged and left her still kneeling on the rigid tatami mat.

Sakura had been so consumed with deflecting Itachi's manipulations she had forgotten about Katsuro. Her small satisfaction at thwarting Itachi washed away. Now she had a sinking feeling something was wrong.

Itachi unrolled a scroll, his discomposure a thing of the past. He rolled it back, then took up another, then began speaking in hushed tones to the brown-haired nin. Katsuro stood at the side of his desk, attentively listening. Sakura could see Katsuro's profile clearly, but his face was wiped clean of emotion.

"A shame," she finally heard Itachi say, "she really was the perfect choice." A look of horror flickered across Katsuro's face, then was gone. Itachi hadn't noticed, and Sakura was sure if she had not been watching so closely she would have missed it too. "I'll get what I can from her at any rate." Itachi stopped to roll up another scroll.

"Thank you, Katsuro," he rejoined. "I understand the men gave you some trouble but you kept them in line?" the young rogue nodded silently. "Good. Just leave the girl here, and you can go."

Katsuro turned on his heel, hooked his arm under the kunoichi's elbow and marched her out of the tent.

Without a word, he walked her to a tree, clamped a hand down on her shoulder, and pushed her back against the rough bark. He never looked at her.

"Kats—" she began, but her throat closed around the word. She swallowed hard, unable to speak again. If he had heard her, then he ignored her, and instead only focused on the task at hand.

Sakura let her head hang as he wrapped the sturdy rope around her midsection. Katsuro wasn't making her sit this time, which meant she probably wouldn't be out there long. A weak sob escaped.

She didn't know what his plan had been, but obviously it had failed.

Sakura was to be left here to wait for Itachi. Katsuro's kindness had run out.

She couldn't bear to look at him as he wrapped another length around. Instead, she dropped her head forward and let her hair swing out past both cheeks.

That way, at least, she could hide her miserable tears. She was sick of crying, but she couldn't hold it back. They streaked down hot and shameful now.

This was where it would end for her. No teammates, no sensei, no village. Not even the kind-hearted rogue would dare cross Itachi. He was busy untying her hands in front, pulling one around the back of the tree. She slid the other around so he could tie it behind. There was no point in fighting her fate now.

She did not run when she had the chance. And now any hope of saving herself was gone.

Tears slicked her face and silently dripped off her chin. Another sob caught in her throat. She wanted to be brave, like a Konoha ninja should. Not like she felt now. She would never betray her village or her teammates, but she still didn't want to die.

Katsuro came back around in front to adjust some tie. His hands moved in to the line of her sight; Sakura could hardly bear to look at them. But she wasn't unkind. She had the feeling that if it weren't for his strict orders, Katsuro would have helped her more.

If this was the end for her, then she wanted to thank him. His kindness had been her only lifeline.

Sakura lifted her head as he leaned toward her again, she swallowed and readied a brief thank you. But a glance at his serious face, his once-friendly brown eyes now turned hard and calculating, only brought more tears to her own.

"So this is where you leave me?" was all she could manage. She didn't expect an answer. Didn't expect anything, really. And that made his next movement an utter surprise.

Katsuro seemed to be leaning in to check the bindings again, but instead Sakura felt the curl of knuckles gently drag down one cheek, then the same hand switched to the other side. A warm palm spread over the curve of her cheek, and he thumbed away any remaining tears. Holding her face steady, hidden from view behind his shoulder, Katsuro drew his mouth even with her ear. His shallow breaths stirred the hairs at the edge of her face.

"No," Katsuro whispered, his voice deep and firm. "I'm not going to leave you."

A last feather-light stroke of his thumb and he pulled away.

Sakura was in shock, the soft touch coupled with his words drove her to seek out his face, his eyes, to verify the truth of what he was saying. And it was all there in the serious look he flashed at her. He wasn't giving up, and neither should she. He stood swiftly, leaving the tendrils of hair swinging around her neck, and turned to go.

Sakura was left there at the tree, warmth on her cheek receding, watching his back as he strode to the folded canvas door of the tent, flung it open, then disappeared inside.

Stalking back to the tent, Katsuro was beginning to see the whole picture. They had not trekked over the mountain because he had made a poor choice in abducting the girl, which he never believed in the first place. No, Itachi had needed more time with her because he was going to twist her mind and destroy her life. He was going to apply a much more subtle genjutsu than a simple interrogation one, and return her to her village. Then, he could summon her whenever he needed her. She was to be a spy.

This was an entirely different kind of death sentence. Itachi would kill her when her usefulness was at an end, if her village didn't kill her first for being a traitor.

Katsuro reflected darkly that he had picked her because she appeared weak. Now, she was too strong to be of use. The irony was sickening.

No, the kunoichi didn't sit in that temple getting more and more desperate, as Itachi had planned. Katsuro took her on as his particular mission in life, teaching her to back up her natural resilience with a strong punch, among other things.

And Itachi was going to kill her for it.

Fuck, he thought angrily, why couldn't he have just picked the other one.

Katsuro gripped the edge of the canvas. He had to do something to stop this. Perhaps if he appealed to Itachi, relied on his own responsibility in the mission... Katsuro didn't know if it would work, but it was the best option. He flung the canvas flap back and ducked inside.

"Katsuro," Itachi drawled inquisitively from behind the desk.

Katsuro crossed the mats quickly to stand in front of him. He came right to the point.

"What are you planning for her?" he said, expression neutral. He knew Itachi would suspect something of him. Better not to hide, he thought, instead make his interest in her known.

Itachi merely raised an eyebrow. Katsuro knew the silence was calculated to make him uncomfortable, but he wasn't interested. He had a goal.

"If it is a genjutsu you are planning, let me ask her first. She trusts me, and I can get the information with minimal damage," Katsuro said, thinking that was enough reason without explanation. He squared his shoulders and waited for the verdict.

Itachi merely sat forward and rested his chin on a loosely curled hand. But his look of mild disinterest was a lie. Katsuro had seen him do this countless times with much bigger fish than him.

"And you think she'll answer your questions?" Itachi said, a bemused smile ticking up a corner of his mouth. Black wisps danced at the sides of his face, and his eyes were half closed, observing him.

"Yes, she'll give you any information you need. She knows she's been abandoned," Katsuro said firmly.

But Itachi sat back silently, considering the young nin. He took up a brush from his desk and rolled it slowly between his thumb and forefinger. Katsuro slipped his hands behind his back and waited, only blinking under the weight of of that cold, black stare.

Itachi was nearly unreadable, but that didn't bother Katsuro. He wasn't playing a mind game. Katsuro knew he was special, and hopefully that could hold sway here. Itachi set the brush down finally and clasped his hands over the blank scroll.

"You really think that a Konoha nin would give up information that easily? Just ask?" the nukenin said with a smirk. "You know nothing about your own village do you? Perhaps we've done too good a job covering your tracks," he laughed softly.

But the humor did not reach Katsuro. There was an arrogance to Itachi's words that always burned him. Even though his master had defected from Konoha, he still thought his education second to none. It always showed when dealing with outside nins. Well, Katsuro was no outsider, but he was not brought up in that village. And sometimes when Itachi stressed how different Konoha nins were, how much tougher they were, it angered him to the core. Because aside from this girl, and most times his master, he hated Konoha more than anything else.

"They need to be broken," Itachi said crisply. "You will learn."

The edge in his voice put Katsuro on alert. This was not going as he hoped, and Katsuro was beginning to think Itachi would not go along with him. He didn't want to have to negotiate with Itachi for her freedom, or stop him from harming her out of spite. Katsuro knew if he could just get her to open up—

Itachi stood suddenly, throwing Katsuro off balance. He wasn't sure what to expect next.

"But, by all means, let's bring her in and test this theory of yours," Itachi said, voice rising, arm flung wide in mock courtesy.

Itachi was not best pleased, but Katsuro didn't care. He had backed off her, and Katsuro meant to take advantage of that opening. The rogue nin nodded curtly and was out the door before Itachi could say another word.

Now if she just played her part, told him everything, demonstrated herself to be a worthy ally, he thought as he crunched across the forest floor, Itachi could have no objection to the request he was planning.

Katsuro made quick work of untying her, but never looked at her face or responded to any of her whispered questions. Even a glance might give something away if he was being observed.

Sakura kneeled gingerly again on the mat, but this time Katsuro had directed her to stop just inside the entrance to the tent, leaving a wide space between herself and Itachi. The Uchiha only looked daggers at her as he circled around the desk, returning to his previous position.

Face pale, Itachi leaned back against the table and crossed his arms over his chest. His long black ponytail snaked around his neck under the half-open cloak. He exuded an air of displeasure that was nearly palpable. But instead of beginning another round of mind games, he gave a sharp nod to Katsuro.

Katsuro began, formally asking her a few vague questions about where she was from, and whether she was a medic kunoichi. If it was a stab at some sort of interrogation, then it was a laughable one, she thought. Behind him, Itachi smirked at Katsuro's steady questions. Apparently, he saw through this act too. But Sakura answered him, knowing there was no new information there. They knew exactly what she did and where she was from.

She didn't know what Katsuro was thinking in performing this charade.

But his questions turned more specific, first about her, then about her teammates. She answered as to her age and rank, but Katsuro interrupted her.

"Really? Only a genin?" Katsuro said in surprise, his false display forgotten.

But Itachi didn't miss the slip. With predatory control, he snapped his eyes to the younger nin immediately, never moving a muscle. Sakura could only nod nervously. Itachi's flat, black eyes narrowed to slits, watching them both closely now. This was a dangerous game Katsuro was playing, she thought.

But Katsuro remembered himself and continued.

In rapid-fire succession, he asked about her mission, her teammates, their ranks and skills, but to each question Sakura only shook her head, lips in a thin line, worried expression deepening with each one.

Katsuro was persistent, closing in on her, driving up the tension with each step he took, but there was no way she would answer those questions.

'What was he thinking? That I would just give them up?' she thought with another shake of her head.

Itachi was no longer her primary concern. She couldn't even see him anymore. Katsuro was standing in front of her, hands on his hips. He was angry now, it was clearly written on his face.

Safely blocked from Itachi's view, Sakura didn't make any attempt to hide her growing frustration with Katsuro, etiher. She had thought he would get her out of this somehow, not be the one interrogating her.

Shifting his feet, letting his hands relax at his sides, Katsuro changed tack. Maybe if he tried reason with her she would open up, he thought.

"You know, they've not come for you, so you can have no fear in telling us anything," he said easily. "If they thought you had information worth guarding then they'd be here for you. But they've never come. Not a single sign. So it's all ok," Katsuro smiled. "There's no reason to withhold anything from us, now." He fanned an arm out to include the Uchiha, but made the mistake of glancing back. Itachi's face was darkening by the second.

Katsuro turned back and repeated the questions again. But this time she turned her face away and set her chin, fixing her sightline on the pale tent wall. She was blocking out both him and Itachi out now.

Katsuro was getting nowhere — Itachi cleared his throat quietly behind him — and he was running out of time.

Closing the distance between them, Katsuro squatted quickly down in front of her, throwing caution to the wind. Hidden from view, Katsuro's face a mix of angry desperation. She glanced at him once, but turned her head away again.

"Listen to me," he whispered furiously. "if you don't answer me willingly, then he'll get what he wants by force. And it will probably kill you." Only the kunoichi's throat fluttered from a reflexive swallow, but there was no other movement. It was as if he hadn't even spoken at all.

"Your teammates don't care about you. They've never seen your true worth. And that damn village has only thrown you away. You don't have to die for them," he pleaded.

If something he'd said struck a chord, then he would never know. She set her mouth in a grim frown and shut her eyes.

Her stubbornness made him snap.

"How can you protect them?" he hissed, rocking forward onto the balls of his feet. "If we were on a team, I'd never treat you the way they've treated you. I'd never give up on you." His words tumbled out quickly, but they were honest. He meant it. He'd go to any lengths now, and he was desperate enough to tell her. He just hoped Itachi didn't hear him.

At that, Sakura's determined expression softened, and she turned her face back to his. They were mere inches apart now, and she could practically feel the heat radiating off him.

A corner of her mouth pulled up into a wistful smile.

"No, you probably wouldn't," she said quietly. To this he smiled in return.

"And if we were on a team, I wouldn't give you up, either," she said honestly back.

She'd never felt that way about her own teammates. But now she understood what Kakashi-sensei had gone on about — bonds.

Sasuke and Sai were still relying on her, although they would never know it. And if Katsuro was on her team there would be no question she'd be right here fighting for him too. Something clicked inside; she steeled her resolve.

The information she had amounted to nothing. Katsuro was right, it was hardly worth dying for. And though she couldn't deny that the idea of meeting death at Itachi's hands was terrifying, she knew now with deep certainty she would never give up information against a fellow Konoha nin.

Katsuro's last comment made the difference. Teammates were for protecting. Now she knew what Kakashi meant.

"Thank you, Katsuro," she said quietly, "for everything."

Confusion skittered across his face. Katsuro rocked back on his heels in disbelief, but it quickly turned to fury.

"You still won't give them up?" he exploded.

Behind him, Itachi snorted in disdain. Katsuro knew what he was thinking, Konoha ninja are unyielding and have to be broken. She had overthrown everything and proved Itachi right.

But Katsuro wasn't letting go yet.

"No!" he said loudly. He stood, hands on hips, and glared fiercely at her. She watched him openly, then mirrored his expression with a determined look of her own.

"I won't let you do this—" he said, eyes narrowed and fingers digging in, but a decisive voice from behind cut him off.

"That's enough" Itachi said firmly. "You're through with this dalliance, Katsuro."

But Katsuro didn't move. Still glaring at the frustrating kunoichi, he kept his back to his master.

Damn her, he thought. She had him caught in the middle, just like on the road. But here, she was the one who needed protecting, not a couple of children. If he didn't intervene, she would be killed. That was a certainty. He didn't know how he could persuade Itachi to let her stay with him after this. But he knew now that he was the only one who could make the difference.

Woven mats creaked together. Itachi's steps shattered the stillness and broke the horrid tableau. Katsuro turned on his heel to face him. Itachi merely stopped in place, but Katsuro wasn't yielding.

The scene was not lost upon Itachi. Standing defiantly, Katsuro's hands in tight fists at his sides and a hard look on his face, the young nin literally blocked his way to the girl.

"She's my responsibility, isn't she?" Katsuro challenged. A look of mild surprise crept across Itachi's face.

He crossed back to the older nin and said lowly, "I'll see this through. Tell me what you need to know, and I'll get the information for you."

Itachi looked past the hard-faced young man to the wide-eyed girl kneeling on the mat. Katsuro had formed some sort of attachment to her, that much was clear.

"Yes. She is your responsibility, isn't she," Itachi said slowly, eyes narrowed. He hesitated, but he saw no reason to stop Katsuro. "Let's just hope you set your traps a little more wisely than this pathetic display."

Katsuro said nothing, just waited for him finish.

"I need to know about Sasuke," Itachi said tightly. "I need to find out about his sharingan, how it's progressing. Find out about his skill level, any jutsus he knows. Where he is living, what his day is like. I want to know every last detail of his miserable life. Any small scrap may prove useful in the future."

"Hai," Katsuro said, and immediately turned to leave.

If the young rogue was surprised that Itachi agreed so quickly, then he didn't let on. Katsuro quickly collected the girl and pushed her through the door.

Itachi returned to his work, swept the long arms of his cloak back and prepared to go over another scroll, but his thoughts turned to his young ward. Katsuro had an attachment to the girl, it was very clear. And Itachi knew those were easiest weaknesses to manipulate.

It suited him to let Katsuro pull out whatever information he could from the kunoichi. Saved him the trouble.

'But when he's done,' thought Itachi darkly, 'I'll teach him a lesson about attachments he won't forget.'

* * *

Fingers tightly squeezed around her elbow, they quick-stepped away from the tents and back down into the woods along the riverside, tromping over brush and snapping driftwood lodged among the trees as they went. Finally they stopped at a small clearing between a few fallen trees. Sakura could see the a cluster of rocks, half buried in dirt apparently displaced from the last time the river flooded it's banks. She remembered what he'd said about floods through their last camp. It was obviously to hide their tracks.

He silently unfastened the bindings in the front of her, then tied her hands together behind a tree standing at the edge of the makeshift campsite.

"I'll be back," he said quietly.

"I—," she began, but he didn't want to hear it. He turned and left before she could get anything else out. It didn't matter, she thought resignedly, there was nothing to say. Only the need to explain herself nagged at her. But even that was pointless.

They were both in over their heads now, she thought, watching him hop over a fallen log. His cloak draped over the tree as he cleared it, but slipped off after him a soft zip. Then he disappeared into the thicket without another sound.

Whatever his plan was, or whatever he thought was going to happen, didn't. Sakura could tell things went deeply awry. And now Katsuro was having to do something instead of Itachi. Or rather, do something to her in Itachi's place.

If she had to guess, then genjutsu or torture were at the top of the list. But as twigs snapped in the direction Katsuro had recently left by, she saw with surprise he was returning with two bowls in his hand. Though the list wasn't long, dinner was definitely not on it.

He set both bowls down on a flat rock, untied her, but left the wrapping still wound up one arm. After shedding their wretched cloaks, Katsuro shoved a bowl into her hands and both sat down heavily on a fallen tree.

Hungrier than she thought, and at a lack of words to say to the boy next to her, Sakura silently chewed through the strange, grey meat. There was a second piece in her bowl, and she thought maybe more rations meant a more permanent camp until she looked over at Katsuro's untouched food. It was just rice, no meat.

Had he given her his portion, she thought with dismay. She wouldn't accept it though, she knew he was just as hungry as she was.

Sakura picked up the meat between her chopsticks and meant to pass it back into his bowl.

"Here, you need to eat too," she said, but he shied her away with his hand, putting the untouched bowl on the other side of him.

"Not hungry," he said distractedly. But Sakura thought he was lying. Though he had a plethora of moods, 'not hungry' was not one of them.

Maybe this was her last meal, she thought morbidly as she took another bite.

Sakura knew Katsuro had a plan, and that somehow she had thwarted it. But she would never willingly betray her village, no matter how desperate the situation seemed. Maybe that's just a fundamental difference between a rogue nin and a village one, she thought.

But it didn't stop her from being grateful to him. She was working out something to say, grinding through the tough meat, and simply wasn't paying attention to him. If she had been looking closer she may have noticed that Katsuro was working out something of an entirely different sort.

The rogue nin's stomach was in a knot. He knew this was his only chance to work over an interrogation genjutsu on her, but he was at a loss as to how to initiate it. He scrubbed a hand over his face.

Some of the key components for success were already out the window. He had to be detached from her to seamlessly begin it, and she had to be open enough for the jutsu to take hold and be effective. The element of surprise was often the easiest way to ensure success, but he'd lost that with her. And a safe emotional distance from her was a thing of the past. He was sure even Itachi saw it. Fuck, he thought, tightening his fist.

"Katsuro," the kunoichi said, interrupting his thoughts. He looked up at her as she placed the bowl of food to the side. She studied his whole face. "If it were you, I would protect you too."

Katsuro blinked, mouth parted just slightly as he worked over her words. He looked as if someone had knocked the wind out of him.

"You mean, if we were on a team together, and someone asked you to give up information about me," he said slowly, the tightness at the corners of his eye softening.

"Yeah," she said simply. The strange half-hurt expression made him look more like a lost kid than a rogue ninja, and the sympathetic tug she felt was so strong she had to look away.

Her wavering brought Katsuro back to reality. This may be his only chance, he thought grimly.

Life seemed to be one cruel twist after another, he thought. That she would protect him. It was probably the nicest thing anyone had ever said to him. And now he had to use it as his opening for a genjutsu. He hated to do it.

But Katsuro felt the same as she did, he would do whatever he had to to protect her. And right now, that meant pulling out enough information to keep Itachi at bay.

"Like teammates?" he said warmly. She looked back at him, and Katsuro smiled encouragingly, making sure to catch her eyes. The kunoichi returned a small smile, curled her hair behind her ears, and meant to turn away again out of embarrassment, but Katsuro stopped her. "What if I were from your village, on your team?"

He laid a hand on her arm and scooted closer, the coarse fabric of his pants brushing up against her bare knee. Looking deeper into her eyes, Katsuro let the warm threads of their chakra intermingle. Their surroundings began to ebb.

"Tell me," he said softly. "What would our day be like? How would it start? Would we train in the morning? Then get lunch together?" His voice was warm, and the happy crinkle at the corners of his eyes had returned. The slight pressure on her arm was reassuring.

"It would be great," she said, giving in to the idea with a sigh, letting the easiness of it all wash over her.

"Tell me about it," he said nodding and smiling back. He wondered if the genjutsu had completely taken hold yet, if she felt it's warm, comforting effects. He wondered darkly if she suspected it of him.

But she smiled brilliantly in return, and Katsuro was so close he was distracted momentarily by the apricot-colored freckles dotted across the tops of her normally pale cheeks. The only happy result of two days in the sun, he thought, returning his own wistful smile. She blinked once, lashes curling against her skin, before fixing those bottomless green eyes on his face again.

He was going to ask another leading question, but her gaze pinned him. When he'd first seen her eyes, he dismissed the pleasant leaf-green color as different, but not unusual. Now, like everything else about her, he realized there was so much more.

Close enough to see the striations of color, dark and light greens fusing together, Katsuro realized that there was a sparkling quality there that had been missing. Her smile brought a light to her eyes.

He'd first recognized it at the temple, the carefree happiness she exuded, and it made all the difference.

Having lived without it for a few days, he knew now he hated to see her eyes dim in sadness.

Katsuro frowned a little to himself. The color was maybe not just that of a single leaf but the whole canopy of a tree, only brought to life by the sunlight behind it. That is, if he had to try to describe it, he told himself.

The kunoichi mirrored his expression, tilting her head with a small, puzzled frown of her own, and Katsuro shook himself of the reverie.

"So, what would it be like if I were in Konoha?" he continued warmly. "Would your teammates like me?"

She smiled fully back at him and began to speak. Katsuro didn't even have to check, the illusion had knit around them completely.

* * *

**_Chapter 13 — Cruel Test_**

_"Tell me how you spell your first name again?" he said, just to make sure it was really 'Ino' like she'd said it was._

_To this she shook her head confusedly. He had a moment of panic that the jutsu had somehow broken but he alone was still in it. _

_"Who doesn't know how to spell Sakura?" she said._

_"Sakura?" he said._

_"My name?" she nodded._

_"Cherry blossom?" he said, then repeated incredulously, "Your name's cherry blossom?" _

_She took his comment to mean he saw her as she often reflected on herself. "Not very befitting of a shinobi, huh."_

_"No," then refocused looking intently at her face, "no, I think it's perfect."_

* * *

_"Did you think Konoha would just let you keep her, like a pet?" Itachi said with a harsh laugh._

_"What will happen to her," Katsuro said, ignoring his goading._

_"I've never seen this side of you before Katsuro," the Uchiha rejoined, smirking._

_The young rogue knew it was a trap, but he was in too deep to turn back now._

_"Are you going to kill her?" Katsuro ground out._

_Itachi glared hard at him. Was he this taken with the girl, that he would offer to keep her in camp? An enemy nin, no less? He wouldn't even entertain the thought. Katsuro needed to be taught a lesson._

_"No. You are." Itachi said ruthlessly, holding out his kunai._

* * *

**Author's notes:**

Hope you enjoyed. This chapter was a battle of mind games with Itachi. I feel like he would rather have people squirming before he lifted the first finger. But there will be a reckoning before the story's over. Sakura's tough, but still young and susceptible to her feelings. She and Katsuro are both learning to trust themselves and changing each other. Read and review, and visit the homepage for extra notes.

**Chapter notes:**

• _He was hoping that if she divulged what she knew, then Itachi would turn her back over to him. If Konoha didn't want her, and he could convince Itachi that she was a worthwhile ally, an excellent addition to their group, then the older nin could have no objections._ — Katsuro is operating under a misunderstanding, really believing that Konoha is a terrible place. That they would abandon her. Sakura doesn't want to believe it, but has some doubt. They are able to carve their friendship out of this middle ground, but misunderstandings and outright lies will be recurring obstacles they'll face.

• _"Don't look at his hands, either," Katsuro whispered hastily. _— A small reference to Naruto's dealings with Itachi in the manga.

• _"Konoha has fed you many lies, I see," he continued... "I wonder if you are as weak as your teammate, my younger brother, always stumbling, always failing. A disgrace to the Uchiha clan," he bit out... "Sasuke's life in return for his betrayal of the clan, I think that was the arrangement he had with Konoha."_ — Itachi is the one who is lying here. He is, above all things, a manipulator. In the manga, it was revealed after his death that he was on the good side, but that's cold comfort. His actions were still mean, cold and heartless. So I'm writing him as this chameleon character. He will say anything to get what he wants. Sakura is naturally suspicious, Katsuro not-so-much. But he will come to see through the lies.

• _"Really? Still a genin?" Katsuro said._ — my own oversight here. When I started, I envisioned Sakura and Co. as chunins, but the more I wrote, the more I decided that was implausible. She needed Katsuro's encouragement to get to that place emotionally. She had it in the manga from Naruto. So, I'm thinking they are older genin, perhaps held back at that level another year because they couldn't work together. But her outfit is Part 2, Shippuden. Anyway, when I picture her as I'm writing this it is as she was when Naruto returned in the very beginning of Part 2, or just before. But not so young as they are portrayed in part 1. There's nothing in the story that is wrong, but I think it needs a little clarification because aside from age I've not written much about their rank. So, sorry 'bout that! Katsuro of course doesn't have a rank, but he knows about them because of Itachi's training and by the need to identify other nins when on illicit missions.

• _Sakura's thoughts: Katsuro's last comment made the difference. Teammates were for protecting. Now she knew what Kakashi meant. / "Let's just hope you set your traps a little more wisely than this pathetic display," said Itachi (to Katsuro) — _Both are coming to see their sensei/master in a different light. Sakura grasps what Kakashi means about teammates, and the antagonistic relationship Katsuro has with Itachi is beginning to show. Itachi is by no means a sensei to Katsuro, more of a master, like Danzo or Orochimaru. You can always tell there are plans going on beneath the surface.

* * *

KungFu, ouch - forgot all about citrus on chapped lips! Will have to employ Suspension-of-belief No Jutsu to cover that one!

ia3 - I laughed at your post! If this story were in the nightly news and not a fanfic, then Stockholm's syndrome would definitely be her diagnosis! But since it's 'wub, true wub,' and in a fanfic about a manga character no less, we know it's destiny! That being said, I've tried to make their relationship as normal as possible. Keeping the skeevy factor to a minimum, not having her be overly apologetic or show gratitude for being captured (just a small thanks for the kindness). AU's aren't my thing either, and here I am writing one, so glad you're enjoying it!

Cupcake, celious2, moldock - Itachi was such a hard character to write for. He's just mean, not even fun-mean, like Deidara. Like in the notes above, I'm writing him as the manipulator he was for 99% of the manga. No unnamed sickness for him, he'll be at the top of the game. And yes, there will be a grudge of some kind that is carried over to Katsuro/Naruto from Deidara.

animemistress - thank you so, you're comments are a delight! There's so much more to Sakura's character in the manga, and it's nice to delve into that. I'm glad you're enjoying it!

crisiscase - Thanks so much for your kind words. Action's coming, only two chapters away! Then missions, etc will become more regular parts of the story.

Thanks so much watchingtherain, alphashadow, nannykiwi, shai, piper, narusakulover and NarutoRocks!


	13. Illusions

Chapter 13 — Illusions

Genjutsus were difficult things to manage, and not Katsuro's specialty. But gauging from the pink bloom spreading across the kunoichi's cheeks, he'd pulled this one off well enough.

She kicked her legs gently beside him, blissfully unaware of their dismal surroundings.

Not that the inner-workings of the genjutsu would have held any interest for her anyway. Katsuro seemed to be the only one who found the slight mingling of a victim's fears or desires to the illusion a fascinating subject.

Most times, it was a single aspect that revealed itself through the cottoning fog. A place of tragedy came through in dark, jagged shards, like a reflection in a shattered window. But a happier memory would appear fully-formed behind the veil. More often than not it was the person's childhood home. Katsuro made sure never to look at those.

But this illusion was completely different.

A clean, encompassing glow swept over the dank riverbed campsite, spreading outward from where the pair sat on the fallen tree. The shapes were still there, or at least the memory of land, the log, the dingy fire circle, but the rest was rendered amorphous beneath a shimmery peach haze.

No insight to her life came sailing out of the mist. Instead they were both surrounded by a pleasant feeling. As if that cool green light of her healing chakra had suddenly turned warm.

Perhaps it was because the extent of his interrogation jutsu had been on old men or petty criminals. Perhaps this was the result of working over a genjutsu on a girl who had little experience with the hardships of life. Perhaps she would always be surprising him.

But within the space of the genjutsu, Katsuro knew there was safety. And their conversations ran familiar courses. The outside situation may be terrifying, but inside this illusion it was as comfortable as that tiny fire lit room at the temple.

He blew out a satisfied breath, and the colors wafted and shifted around them, as if a flame had danced through. The echo of that room was his contribution to this unusual, embracing illusion.

Katsuro took his time, revisited their previous conversations and gently guided her to fill in more information. If he worked it right, then she'd have no memory of this at all. It would just blur together with her dreams.

But just as he congratulated himself on his success, her smile sagged and her swinging legs stilled.

"I don't think I should be telling you these things," she mumbled. Slim fingers smoothed over the new frown lines on her forehead, as if trying to remember something she'd forgotten, something dreadfully important.

Katsuro was surprised. It was a testament to her strong will that she could still keep a shred of reason while fully dipped in a genjutsu.

"Don't worry," he said, voice soothing. "You aren't telling me anything I didn't already know."

"Really?" she said with relief.

"Of course," he smiled back, lying.

And with that the content look returned, and she went back to swinging her legs. The radiant smile she shot at him only made him feel worse about having to manipulate her. But it had to be done. This was the only way to appease Itachi and guarantee her safety.

Best not to think too much about it, he told himself before circling back to an earlier conversation to verify some names.

"So one of my favorite stories is when you were at the academy and the big one" — "Choji," the kunoichi corrected — "right, when Choji blew up at the other kid in class who called him fat. You know, the dog boy, what was his name again?"

"Oh, Kiba," she supplied.

"Right, Kiba" Katsuro intoned smoothly.

And so went the interrogation. What she believed was a innocent conversation, no different from the many they'd had in the temple, was really a careful culling of information. He was skimming the surface, attaching names to all the stories she'd told him, and occasionally dipping deeper for specific details about Sasuke, his prime target.

Katsuro was curious about that bastard. His help in the very delicate matter concerning his younger brother was the only mission Itachi had charged him with in exchange for freeing him from Konoha. He had trained for it, bled for it, undergone countless missions and crushing jutsus just to be able to withstand some of the punishing blows that an "Uchiha" could deliver.

But the kunoichi's experiences gave Katsuro a real reason to hate him.

The younger Uchiha was always either ignoring her or insulting her. And then he tried to get her thrown off their team. She related that story in full, even down to the mess she'd made of their kage's office.

Katsuro laughed till his side hurt at that story, and she beamed back at him, obviously pleased at his approval of what everyone else had called a childish temper tantrum. But another recollection turned her pensive.

"Sasuke was a precocious as a child. All the girls in the academy had crushes on him," she muttered, then hurriedly added, "but now I think all the attention might have gone to his head."

She frowned and tapped her chin. "I don't think many people see how he really is. But as he's gotten older he's only grown colder and more arrogant," she said, then shrugged. "He has no friends, not even Sai."

Katsuro mulled what she'd said. If he was that blustering to everyone, then the chances were that he actually wasn't as powerful as Itachi expected.

Though the elder brother had called his sibling weak, cowardly, Katsuro had assumed it to be a lie. A message planted in the girl if in fact he did plan on sending her back. That the traitorous younger brother would never be strong in Itachi's eyes, no matter how much training he had.

Katsuro leaned closer to her, as if sharing a secret.

"So, he's really not all that great is he? It's just an act?" he whispered.

"Oh no," she exclaimed. "He was always the best in our class, and I know he's better than most chunins and a few jonins." The kunoichi shook her head slowly. "But I think he's more powerful than he lets on. He doesn't ever speak, trains alone or with our sensei only. I don't think he trusts anyone, which I can understand," she said quietly.

"But I always get the feeling he thinks everyone else is beneath him, a waste of his time. And I know he thinks I shouldn't be a ninja at all," she said, waving her hand exaggeratedly.

She continued speaking, moving on to another humorous story, any injured feelings swept away by the buoying genjutsu.

But Katsuro was left behind, unhearing. Her words dredged up long-buried memories. Another voice swirled around him now.

"You? You'll never be a ninja," a cruel male voice echoed from his past.

Unbidden, images flashed through Katsuro's mind of a ruthless shinobi, a sun-baked road, a wide-eyed boy on the steps of an orphanage. The men were walking by, passing so close he could hear their kunai rattling in their pouches. Yellow dust blew off the road in thick clouds. It clung to his clothes and tried to choke the air out of his lungs.

"You're the demon container. Didn't you know? They'd never let trash like you be a ninja," a silver-haired man sneered. He laughed, taunted, then called back over his shoulder before disappearing into the suffocating haze. His final words cut the deepest. "Any day now will be your last, demon."

Katsuro swallowed reflexively, he hadn't thought of that awful day in years. It was still there though, the cold laughter, the wretched dust, the realization and heartache, all lingering just below the surface.

But as suddenly as the memory crashed down on him, it was gone, driven away by the tinkling laugh in his ear, the warm hand pressed on his arm.

The kunoichi laughed again, and Katsuro was brought back to the present. He blinked quietly at the pink haired girl, then roused himself to laugh weakly with her, though he'd not heard a word of her anecdote.

He had survived that hopeless time, he reassured himself. Itachi had seen to that. But the memory was so real, so unsettling, he raked a hand through his unruly hair just to make sure. When her attention shifted, he twisted his finger around a lock on his forehead and nearly crossed his eyes trying to look at it.

'Still brown,' he thought with a relieved sigh, and let the now-familiar hair fall back into it's disheveled place.

The girl beside him took no notice, instead content to sit in companionable silence.

Katsuro blew out another steadying breath and tried to refocus on his task. If he had never crossed paths with this kunoichi he would have thought that all Konoha ninjas were the same as those men. But she, it seemed, was the exception.

This girl shook his beliefs about that wretched village to the core. And if he discovered that Sasuke was like her, someone totally different than what he'd been led to believe, then it was going to be hard to fulfill his mission.

But thankfully, he wasn't like her at all. Sasuke was a bastard through and through. He had betrayed Itachi, led to the massacre of his clan, and now was only source of pain to the girl beside him. That boy hated her, thwarted her, abandoned her.

'No,' he thought unflinchingly, 'killing Sasuke Uchiha is going to be a pleasure.'

And that conviction made Katsuro more resolved than ever to carve out a place for her within his group. She never had to go back to that damn village again. Itachi had saved him, he could save her.

They would make a brilliant team, he thought, kicking his legs out in front of him comfortably. The encounter with Deidara and Sasori had shown him that. She was an exceptional ninja, reading the situation and working with him to provide a unified front in the face of an unknown opponent. She was a fighter too, just like him, he thought with a low laugh.

Remembering himself, Katsuro straightened and rubbed a hand across the back of his neck self-conciously. The kunoichi tucked a swinging lock of hair back behind her ear and smiled pleasantly at him.

The genjutsu. He'd forgotten. It was his turn to have slightly red cheeks. Her inattentive silence should have been a warning sign their time was waning, but he wasn't ready to break the spell just quite yet.

Katsuro cleared his throat and let his wandering thoughts lead the next question.

"So if your teammates are so awful, the bastard and the robot, then why do you want to go back?" The kunoichi smirked at his names for them, but tipped her head in question.

"It's my home. Wouldn't you want to go back to your home too?" she said.

Katsuro fumbled for an answer, realizing belatedly that he should have stuck to fact-gathering.

"No, the people from my home were very cruel. I left that place years ago," he finally managed. It was the simple line he had told her before, all explanation and no information.

"Why? Who could ever do that to you?" she said. Her eyes were so clear and scanning his face so earnestly that he forgot himself.

He forgot the threats, the warnings, the knowledge that one slip would shine like a torch in the night, pointing the way to where he was, and certain death.

Her kind words had nothing to do with the menacing power trapped inside, the only thing which he'd ever been measured by. Her concern was for him, and him alone. She saw him as he was.

Well, almost.

She saw him as the kid he was presented to be. And he found that, amazingly, he wanted to be that kid. Just for a little while. He wanted bask in her sympathy and rail against the unfairness of it all. Step away from the burden of power. Just for a moment.

She had nothing to gain from him, and was offering only her concern. He knew it was sincere. The pull was too much to resist.

Perhaps he could tell her something. Just a little, he thought. It was like a breath of fresh air. Or a shaft of light in the darkness...

She waited beside him, sweet concern clear on her face.

He rubbed a hand over his eyes, trying to clear the distracting thoughts. He knew what Itachi had said. Konoha was always looking for him, they would go to any length to get their ultimate weapon back. He should never, ever leave a trace.

But Katsuro also knew he was safe within the genjutsu. She would remember none of this. And if she did, it would be hard to discern it from broken fragments of a dream. However the genjutsu itself would live in her memory, a signpost that someone else was there. And if someone more skilled than he were looking for wisp of information, scanning her thoughts for something specifically related to him and what he contained, then anything he said could lead those bastards right to him.

Perhaps he could tell her without giving away any information at all. He swallowed hard.

"I was special...I mean was able to..." Katsuro stopped, then started again. "I was to be a tool...like all ninja, I mean...but for battle, you know?

"Oh," she said, confused. He knew he wasn't making much sense. Maybe he could tell her just a little more. He lowered his voice and dropped his face very close to hers, finding it hard to just string the words together. Things he'd not told anyone since that dark night when Itachi had finally found him, abandoned and alone, on the empty playground of the orphanage.

He blew out a breath and willed the words to come.

"I was to be kept alive only as long I was needed," he said softly. "Then I was to be killed."

Silence stretched out between them. The kunoichi opened and closed her mouth a few times, beginning to ask something, but rethinking it. She settled into a puzzled frown.

But for Katsuro, doubt slipped in, chipping away at his reasoning. Why did he even want to tell her? This was beyond dangerous. Had he lost his mind?

He laughed wryly at a thought that he would initiate the genjutsu and somehow she would end up asking him uncomfortable questions. Just typical, he thought. He should've expected as much by now.

"I'm so sorry, I know some places are awful," she said softly, cutting across his thoughts. "But my village isn't like that at all. You would like it a lot."

Katsuro stiffened. Of course she wouldn't understand, but her small smile just riled him, made him want to yell back at her, tell her everything. Prove her wrong and make her explain her village's actions.

The peach haze thinned around them, and the dark outlines of the forest began to take shape. Flecks of peeling bark surfaced beside his thigh as the tree they sat on came into clearer view.

Damn it, he forgot about the genjutsu, again! Katsuro ignored the irrational anger bearing down on him, and instead focused on reining in the illusion.

He knew what was happening now. They had both been under for too long, and it was clouding his judgement. This would be exhaust them tomorrow. He had to finish swiftly.

Beside him, the kunoichi's eyes were wide with worry, the color in her face washing out. She might have caught a sense of the genjutsu, Katsuro thought, but he couldn't let her out of it yet. If the illusion around them burst like a bubble, then there was a chance she would remember everything. He had to ease her into sleep, then break the jutsu. He just hoped he could do it before either of them passed out.

Scrambling to draw her back in, Katsuro quickly cast around for anything else to talk about. Something they hadn't covered...

"Hey, you have a best friend, right?" he said, shooting her a bright, false smile. "What team is she on?"

The distraction worked instantly.

"Ino," the kunoichi said and rolled her eyes. "She's on Team 8 with Shikamaru and Choji."

But Katsuro just blinked at her.

"Remember, the smart one and the big one? Yeah, well I guess she'd be the blond one then!" she said, laughing at herself for coming up with a nickname.

"I think you would like them a lot. There is also—"

"You're _friend_, Ino? Katsuro said, realizing her slip. "Oh."

She had simply given her best friend's name as her own all those days ago. He had to think fast.

"You know...I always thought she was related to you," he said with a laugh, but continued watching her closely.

"No!" she said, swatting the air as if he should already know that detail. "Her family runs the Yamanaka flower shop."

"Oh right. And your name's not Yamanaka," Katsuro replied with a scoff.

"No way! It's Haruno, of course," was her firm response.

"Of course," Katsuro covered smoothly. "And tell me how you spell your first name again?"

But to this request the kunoichi only shook her head confusedly. Katsuro had a moment of panic that the genjutsu had somehow broken but he alone was still in it.

"Who doesn't know how to spell Sakura?" she said.

"Sakura?" he echoed, face slack.

"My name?" she said, clarifying like a petulant child.

"Cherry blossom?" he said, then repeated incredulously, "Your name's cherry blossom?" He was completely thrown and just sat blinking at her.

She frowned in misunderstanding. "Not very befitting of a ninja, huh," she muttered, tucking a stray lock of hair back behind her ear.

"No," Katsuro said breathily. He took in her whole face as if he'd never really seen it. "No. It's perfect."

And it was. She was. He'd never met anyone like her, never knew someone like her even existed. And here she was. Open and unaffected, kind and protective, funny and fearless, she could kill you in open combat...and she was named after cherry blossoms.

He studied her face again, his mouth set in a satisfied half-smile, eyes soft. The tightness he'd felt across his chest before returned, but this time it wasn't borne of anger. This was easy and expectant, like he'd been holding his breath. Sakura, he thought, breathing out. A pleasant warmth rushed in, his fingertips tingled.

He created this illusion, but damn if it wasn't doing things to him too. Katsuro tipped his head to get a better look at her eyes, memorize them. If this feeling was part of the genjutsu, then he didn't want to forget.

She couldn't hold his gaze, instead turned away, curling back another lock of hair that was swaying slightly against her neck. The faint glow on her cheeks had turned into a real blush. She involuntarily let out a small yawn.

At this, Katsuro knew their time was up. He would endanger them both to stay under any longer.

"Sakura," he said her name again, just to have the pleasure of hearing it aloud.

"And Ino is your best friend," he said, pleased with himself. Screw the information about Sasuke. Just finding out her name made the whole genjutsu worth it.

Another thought occurred, and he couldn't resist it. Katsuro drew a little closer to her, eyes twinkling and voice soft.

"Hey Sakura-chan, do you have a boyfriend back home?" he asked. Even exhaustion couldn't dampen his grin.

She laughed at his teasing, shaking her head lightly, but her smile slipped at some unwelcome memory.

"There was someone I used to like," she said. Katsuro frowned too, guessing it was the source of all their troubles right now, Sasuke.

A small sigh turned into another yawn, before she drowsily added, "but I don't have a boyfriend."

Katsuro's smile returned.

"Good," he said softly, and closed the small gap between them. Her eyelids were heavy, and she leaned toward him comfortably.

"Just rest now, ok?" he said.

"Kay" she slurred, eyes already closed. Her head dropped easily onto Katsuro's shoulder.

Extending one arm across her abdomen to stop her from falling forward off the log, Katsuro unobtrusively raised his free hand and silently released the jutsu.

The effect for both was like dropping back to Earth. Her weight was fully pressed against his arm, and she was already unconscious. But Katsuro had no such luxury. His limbs were heavy and tired, and his head ached. But he had to get them both into a comfortable position, not perched on an old log.

The ground beneath them was more mud than dirt, but it would have to do. He had not planned the genjutsu well, but in the end he'd gotten more than he'd ever thought possible.

The kunoichi's head nodded forward off his shoulder. He was fading fast too. He had to hurry if he wanted to get this done on his own chakra, and he was at the dregs.

Katsuro didn't want to be forced to borrow from that malevolent energy that was always lurking just below the surface. Sometimes it made him feel good, like he could destroy anything. Then other times it just felt like it was going to burn him alive. Katsuro had a sinking feeling that if he tried to borrow chakra tonight, he'd be torched from the inside out. And he couldn't risk it. He needed to be fully aware in the morning to make his report — and request — to Itachi, not writhing from the aftereffects of channeling a demon's chakra through his veins.

Resolved, he used his last burst of energy to pivot down onto his knee in front of the kunoichi. Taking advantage of the forward momentum, he let her slump against his shoulder, hooked his arm around her to keep her from sliding off, then leaned down with her until she was flat against the ground.

Katsuro's thoughts were beginning to muddle. Fighting to keep his eyes open, he dislodged his arm from behind her unmoving back, sat back up on his knees, then pushed himself backwards away from the tree. He didn't care where he landed, only that he fall clear of Sakura.

Sakura...

The bare threads of thought fell away from him, slipping by like those pale petals her name conjured up. To protect her, to keep her alive, that was enough...if he could just do that...

He was out before his body hit the forest floor.

* * *

_Chapter 14_

_"And yet she has to go back to there?" Katsuro said._

_"Did she suggest this, say she wants to stay with you? Give up her village? Itachi stilled again, his voice low and dangerous._

_"No!" Katsuro said quickly. "She seems to be incredibly loyal, I mean..." his voice trailed off. He didn't know what he meant. What Itachi was asking and he was answering were two entirely different things. But the deadly tone in his voice kept Katsuro from correcting the mistake._

_"Good," Itachi breathed, settling back into his desk. "If she been swayed that easily to want to stay with you, then I'd say she was a spy." Flattening a blank scroll, he took up a brush and dragged it through the slanted well of the inkstone. He paused, watching the excess black ink ooze slowly off the brush._

_"If she'd said she wanted to stay with you, I'd have killed her on the spot," Itachi said coldly, then deftly flicked the brush in long strokes against the page._

_Katsuro went numb. This was not fighting through, he was getting farther and farther in over his head. And he he was sinking fast. _

* * *

**Author's notes:** Chapter about illusions, and this one was a switcheroo. Katsuro is working over the genjutsu, but instead of information about her, it's his history which is made clearer. Had to break out a few things from this chapter to include in the next. There simply was too much going on. So the genjutsu chapter stands alone, perfect in it's little shimmery bubble, and not touched by the darker aspects of the chapter before and the chapters ahead.

A few things people have mentioned in reviews about the brothers grim: As I'm writing Itachi right now, I don't think he will have a redemption at the end. Maybe, but I can't guarantee. Like I said, if Madara didn't blab about it in the manga, we the readers would never have known he was working for the good side. So I'm writing him as he presented himself in life, a terrifying guy with constantly shifting motives. I don't want to disappoint anyone who is hoping he'll turn out ok in the end. No guarantees there. As for Sasuke, there definitely be a Team 7 dynamic in the future, with tension and begrudged acknowledgement, and in ways that are a twist on the manga. He won't be a bad character, despite being an ass right now. He will also suffer from not having Naruto around.

Please read and review. And again, there are more notes on my website, plus a little omitted scene from Chapter 11 (was in this chapter, but just didn't work!). It was too sweet to do away with, so now it will just live there.

**Chapter notes: **

• The shape of an illusion — I envisioned there being different types of illusions: happier, feel-good kinds and terrifying, destructive kinds. Interrogating vs. intimidating, respectively. Katsuro's not as good as Itachi, who prefers intimidation because it is quick and he doesn't spare time for anyone, but what Katsuro lacks in jutsu he makes up for in personality. I've tried to add in some of Naruto's characteristics here too: he's learning to read the people around him, but with an inherent kindness; he's interested in the intricacies of what makes the genjutsu work; and when he's safe, like in the genjutsu with Sakura, he's naturally happy. Small, I know, but I'm intentionally writing these aspects in to try to preserve some of his nice characteristics in an environment where none of them show. The illusion itself is a hazy meeting area in the middle for the two, like the cherry tree in the paneled room, it's a safe place for both of them.

• _It was a testament to her strong will that she could still keep a shred of reason while fully dipped in a genjutsu._ — oblique reference to 'Inner Sakura' from the manga. That it! The only appearance she'll have! Don't blink or you'll miss it!

• _They'd never let trash like you be a ninja," a silver-haired man sneered._ — Not Kakashi! I repeat, not Kakashi! There is a whole flashback chapter to come later that will tie all these little scenes together. The name's not important, only the impact he made on young Naruto's life. (Hint, hint, it's the same impact he made in the manga.)

• _Sakura... The bare threads of thought fell away from him, slipping by like those pale petals her name conjured up._ — reference to the cherry tree, her name and the genjutsu he applied to Sakura in the beginning. Now it has come back to him in a very different way. Appropriate finish to an illusion chapter where more has been revealed about him than her.

* * *

Thanks for the reviews, faves and alerts. I know I say it a lot, but it means so, so much. Thanks so much NarutoRocks, Moldock, Dark Syaoran, Elueviete and Nanny Kiwi. Thanks too to Celious and Hershey's. I'm so, so glad you're enjoying it!

Piper — Tsunade is not yet the Hokage, and that story line will be revealed in the next two chapters — so your timing is good! Sakura has shown interest and an affinity for healing, but it's not gone very far.

KungFu, hope the genjutsu was ok. Don't worry, I'm not a big fan of shocking story elements. And Sasuke is being presented as bad, but Itachi's manipulating a lot to keep Katsuro doing his bidding. He's not ever going to be a great guy, always arrogant and complicated, but he won't be bad.

Kimiss — that's exactly what I was going for, because Naruto communicates best through action!

WitchyMage — your comments mean so much. I trying to strike a balance between Sakura being the inexperienced genin and the fighter she will become. She's trusting, but she's not going to give up on what she believes in. You put it exactly as I feel, I don't want to cheat Sakura's character. I hesitate to put in extra notes about my overthinking, (about Sakura's rank, etc.), but if it's worth it to even one person, then it's worth it to me.

Anime Mistress — thanks so much! There are a lot of untruths that will swirl around them, but if they'll eventually work through them all. As for Katsuro's rank, it would be chunin or a little higher. Not so far beyond Sakura, but a level above at least. He has been taught what he needs to know to survive and be an effective killer, but he's missed out on the academy basics that Sakura knows like the back of her hand. And Itachi is no sensei. He knows he's training Katsuro to be a weapon. So they learn in different ways, Sakura through studying, Katsuro/Naruto through action, like in the manga.


	14. Cruel Choice

Chapter 14 - Cruel Choice

Gold light and green shadows dappled in and out of focus. Katsuro rubbed tired eyes. Flinging an arm up to block the afternoon sunlight, he twisted his head for a better look around. But the quick movement set the world spinning.

Katsuro squeezed his eyes shut, dug his fingers back into the cool black earth, and grit his teeth against the dizziness. It was a sure sign of just how far he let that genjutsu go. Even though he knew it was a thin illusion, it lasted too long to be safe. She must really be feeling the effects of it, he thought.

"Sakura," he breathed out her name.

The nausea lulled. Katsuro rolled his head and tried to focus his eyes, but he still couldn't find her.

And it was still entirely too soon to be moving.

Disorientation washed over him. Katsuro blew a long, low breath, closed his eyes, and cursed himself again for going so deep. The queasy feeling sharpened. Beads of sweat pricked his upper lip and forehead. This time it was a full two minutes before the pounding in his ears and the bile in his throat finally abated. Blinking up at the trees, feeling better though still light-headed, Katsuro wiped a sleeve down his face and sat up slowly.

Sakura was gone, as was any trace of her. Both their bowls and cloaks were conspicuously absent. It was clear that Itachi had collected her. Katsuro had a sinking feeling now that had nothing to do with the genjutsu.

Wherever she was, he hoped she was in worse shape than he was. Then Itachi would be forced to wait until she came around before he could apply another genjutsu.

It was foolish to worry, he told himself. If he was this sick, then she was probably out like a light.

Katsuro clambered to his feet, swaying dangerously for a moment. But once he had his bearings enough to walk, he set off in the direction of Itachi's tents.

By the time he was wrapping his fingers around the canvas flap, Katsuro had recovered all his faculties. He stopped, listening hard for her voice, a movement, any out-of-place sounds that would give him a clue as to what he would find. But nothing reached his ears. Maybe she's not there, he thought, pulling back the fabric.

But before he'd even stepped through the door he'd found her. Just inside the tent two scuffed black boots lay flat against the woven mat. The kunoichi was on her side, hands bound in front of her. He was right, she'd never even woken up.

Katsuro pushed away his relief. She wasn't out of danger yet. First came the more pressing task of delivering information. Then he would make his case for her.

"Katsuro," Itachi said expectantly, not bothering to look up from his work.

Wasting no time, Katsuro crossed the room to stand in front of the desk. The elder Uchiha sat back and listened neutrally to the report. Katsuro told him everything about his younger brother. The sharingan had been activated, he had mastered many high level jutsus and was one of the most accomplished shinobi of their grade. But everything else, all the rest she'd told him, he kept to himself.

'He's not interested in her anymore,' Katsuro thought, justifying the rebellious feeling he got from withholding information.

"Nothing I didn't already know," Itachi sighed resignedly. "Although it's nice to have verification that things are still moving in the right direction." He picked up an out-of-place kunai that had been left on the desk and examined the blade.

"However, her only value to me was in her return to the village," Itachi rejoined, letting the sentence hang in the air.

Katsuro thought the silence was calculated. He chose his next words carefully.

"Konoha has abandoned her," Katsuro said without inflection.

"Oh no, they will come for her." Itachi countered. "And I was counting on that fact. Once the dust settles in Konoha, it's only a matter of time." Katsuro's brow crinkled for a moment. He was missing something.

"But now," the Uchiha sighed again, "she's just a liability. And that puts us all in danger." He laid the kunai back down in front of him, handle out, and reached for another scroll.

Katsuro spared a fleeting thought at the irony of it all. Hadn't he said the same thing once? It seemed so long ago.

But something else was going on here.

Itachi wanted more out of this than a simple progress report. The plan to send her back as a spy had been carefully guarded. And the misleading things Itachi had said about his brother, things which were clearly untrue...none of it added up.

And then the village. Itachi believed they would come for her, but that it was _a fact_? The only fact was that they hadn't, Katsuro thought wryly. Not a single, solitary sign. But Itachi was sure they would come, had worked it into this plan. The troubling thing to Katsuro was that doing so ran counter to everything he knew of Konoha.

He knew the village would drop her at the slightest problem, knew they would only use her as a means to an end. It had been that way with him, hadn't it? And though he had never had any other dealing with Konoha since the day he left, Itachi confirmed that it was village policy to abandon those who could not keep up.

But now, Itachi seemed to believe otherwise. Either Katsuro had grossly underestimated his former village or, he thought with a measure of disbelief, his superior had given him faulty information.

Whatever was going on, this was something very important to Itachi, and the Uchiha was carefully covering his tracks, even from Katsuro.

The shuffling of papers drew his attention. In front of him, Itachi perused another document. Katsuro narrowed his eyes a fraction, suddenly aware that the older nin had not dismissed him. This too was out of the ordinary. Itachi was waiting for something.

A cold feeling trilled up the back of his neck. Things were not as they appeared, and Katsuro knew it. He tightened his fist nervously. The brown-haired nin felt like he was walking into a trap, and he had not even opened his mouth.

"There is something else you would like to discuss?" Itachi said cooly, never looking up.

Shit. This wasn't good. There was no way out now but to go through. Katsuro cleared his throat and took the direct approach.

"What are you planning for her?" he said, stripping his voice of emotion.

But if Katsuro expected a fight, a fiery reaction, then Itachi did not deliver. Instead, the older nin eased back in his seat and tilted his head thoughtfully at the question.

"I suppose I could always wipe her mind and return her," Itachi said, lazily waving a long, pale hand. "It would send a message to Konoha that we can take anyone whenever we want..."

That wasn't what Katsuro wanted, not really. But it was the quickest way to get her out of harm's way. And most importantly, it was Itachi's idea. Although it seemed too easy that he would simply return her to Konoha unharmed, Katsuro had no choice but to go along with it.

"I think that's best," Katsuro said detachedly. "After all, she is no threat."

Itachi's hand went still, his eyes narrowed to slits. Even the air around him seemed to freeze.

"You believe she is of no threat?" he ground out.

Katsuro sucked in a breath, his gut twisted into a knot. He knew it was a trap — _knew it_ — and yet he blundered right into it anyway. This was why Itachi had let him stand around so stupidly, he had seen right through him.

Katsuro locked his jaw, looked straight ahead, and just waited for the hell to rain down.

"Have you learned nothing?" Itachi snapped. He pushed off the desk to stand, moving directly into Katsuro's eyeline.

The young rogue continued staring straight ahead, as if the black cloak had not just blotted out his entire view. He knew looking away from Itachi now was not only cowardly, it was deadly foolish.

"To think you could be disarmed by an enemy so easily," the elder nin said, slowly regaining his composure. His tone smoothed out, but he did not sit. "I'm disappointed in you, Katsuro."

"If she were allowed to simply return, she could point all of Konoha back to you. And I could neither stop them nor protect you," Itachi finished, hands open in front of him. His black ponytail had slipped forward and snaked over his collarbone. He wasn't being kind, Katsuro knew, he was applying pressure.

"Everything we've worked so hard for would be undone in an instant," Itachi continued. "All because you've let one little girl go because you think she's 'no threat.'"

Katsuro still stood defiantly in front of him. Itachi's mouthed curled down in frustration.

"If she knew what you really were," Itachi resumed, voice hard, "then she would be hunting you down just like the rest of them. Don't deceive yourself."

Katsuro's shoulders softened just a bit. But it was enough. Itachi knew he would bend.

"If they caught you, this time they wouldn't just dump you in an orphanage. You would never see the light of day again. You would rot in a cell until they needed the kyuubi. Then they would turn you into the demon...and you would cease to exist," Itachi said.

The Uchiha watched the young man closely, letting the reality of his words sink in. He knew Katsuro would yield to this reasoning, and the thin line of his lips, clench of a fist and flutter of his eyelashes showed Itachi that he'd hit his mark.

The black-haired man smirked. Katsuro had always played into his hands. And though years of training had diminished his naivete, taught him to hide the things that made him stand out, Katsuro's emotions still rose to the surface in physical nuances. Even in defiance, he was as easy to read as a book.

"Anyone is a threat to you. Especially someone from Konoha. I'm sure you understand," Itachi finished smoothly.

And Katsuro did understand. No matter what he thought of her, she didn't know the first thing about him. About who he was...what he was. How hard he'd fought to survive, and what Konoha would do if they ever got a hold of him.

Itachi was right, and he hated it. How could he throw everything away over some tender feelings for one girl?

The way he felt the night before seemed as flimsy and fleeting as that shimmering mist of the genjutsu. Was it all just an illusion? The feeling, the connection? He frowned. He didn't want to think so.

But regardless of his spiraling emotions, the fact remained the Konoha had never come for her.

Katsuro hazarded a glance at Itachi's face. Impassive as ever.

"Konoha doesn't care. They've abandoned her, left her out here to die," Katsuro said honestly, ending the standoff.

"They will come," Itachi said, relaxing enough to fold his arms over his chest.

"You believe this, even though there's not been a single sign?" the younger nin said.

"Yes. They would never let a shinobi leave their village, willingly or unwillingly," Itachi said. "They will either come to collect her, or come to kill her."

Katsuro stifled his desire to shudder at the thought of Sakura being caught up in the crushing machinations of that village. But his belief that Konoha was truly a terrible place was restored. Itachi had not mislead him on that point, it seemed. Just not filled out the whole picture, Katsuro told himself.

And she didn't deserve that fate. If that was Itachi wanted, to send her back. Katsuro's breath hitched, and the uneasy feeling came back in full force. Itachi had never answered him.

"And yet she has to go back to there?" Katsuro said, feigning curiosity.

Itachi relaxed movements ground to a halt. "Did _she_ suggest this, say she wants to stay with you? Give up her village?" His voice was low and dangerous.

"No!" Katsuro said quickly. "She seems to be incredibly loyal, I mean..." his voice trailed off. He didn't know what he meant. What Itachi was asking and he was answering were two entirely different things. But the deadly tone in Itachi's voice kept Katsuro from correcting the mistake.

"Good," Itachi breathed, settling back behind his desk. "If she been swayed that easily, then I'd say she was a spy." Flattening a blank scroll, he took up a brush and dragged it through the slanted well of the inkstone. He paused, watching the excess black ink ooze slowly off the brush.

"If she'd said she wanted to stay with you, I'd have killed her on the spot," Itachi said coldly, then flicked the brush in long strokes against the page.

Katsuro went numb. This was not fighting through, this was getting farther and farther in over his head. And he he was sinking fast.

Itachi broke the stillness in the room with a quiet, mean laugh.

"Or perhaps, did you think Konoha would let you keep her, like a pet?" he said snidely. An unheard laugh shook his shoulders and set his wisps of black hair swinging as he leaned over the page.

Everything was unraveling, Katsuro thought, and Itachi still wasn't giving him a straight answer.

"What will happen to her," Katsuro said quietly.

Itachi continued the fluid movements unperturbed.

"Did you hear anything I said?" the Uchiha chided lightly, as if speaking to a child, not bothering to look up.

He sounded amused, but Katsuro knew it was false. Irritation sparked within him.

"I just want to know what's going to happen to her" Katsuro repeated flatly.

"Funny, you've never cared before about anyone else who comes through here," Itachi said, head still bowed.

He was toying with her life, Katsuro could feel it.

"What are you going to do to her?" he repeated, struggling to quell his anger.

"I've never seen this side of you before," Itachi quipped. He looked up at Katsuro with an unkind smile on his face, brush suspended in mid-stroke.

Katsuro glared back. Now Itachi was toying with him, too. He finally snapped.

"Are you going to kill her?" Katsuro demanded, fists clenched at his sides. He had never gone against Itachi, but he wasn't going to budge until he got an answer.

Itachi's predatory smile vanished. He slammed the brush down, splattering ink across the page, and sized up the defiant nin with a long, hard stare. A faint blood-red outline of the sharingan wheeled to the surface of his ruthless black eyes.

They both knew it was a sign of how far this little episode had spiraled out of control. But even with the threat of the Uchiha clans most feared technique, Katsuro was not backing down.

Itachi was surprised, to say the least. Was Katsuro this taken with the girl that he would negotiate for her? Was he pushing to keep her, in camp? A Konoha nin, no less. He wouldn't even entertain the thought.

Katsuro needed to be taught a lesson.

"No. I'm not going to kill her," Itachi said darkly. He snapped up the kunai by the blade, holding it out as he'd set it down, with the handle pointed toward Katsuro. "You are."

Katsuro couldn't keep his eyes from going wide with the horrific realization of what was happening. He looked at the weapon as if it were on fire, even as the blood in his veins turned to ice. The whole damn thing had been a trap, from the very beginning. Itachi brought the kunoichi here because he knew he'd come looking for her, then laid out the instrument of her death right in front of his eyes.

"It is obvious you have an attachment to her. But attachments will get you killed," Itachi said, pointing the hilt of the weapon accusingly at him. "Her fate was sealed the moment you picked her."

Katsuro wrapped his fingers around the handle of the kunai — he knew Itachi would kill her if he disobeyed — but the Uchiha didn't let go. Itachi stared him down over the weapon, intent on making a few things clear.

"You have a responsibility to this group which keeps you safe and allows you your freedom. Any Konoha nin is a threat, no matter how attractive they are to you. Do not ever forget where your loyalties lie." Katsuro glared back at Itachi, but the man still would not release the kunai. "If you can not perform this task then it will be reassigned, and it will be infinitely harder on her. You will make sure it is swift and painless. Another member, say Hidan, would be inclined to slice off—"

"That's enough!" Katsuro said and ripped the kunai out of his hands. He didn't care if he hurt Itachi now, but his master was characteristically one step ahead and had already let go of the blade.

Katsuro knew everything Itachi said was true. There was no way out. No way to fight through this. He was trapped.

Suddenly the air in the tent was stifling, and the canvas walls felt like they were going to fold in on him. Maybe it was another relapse of nausea, the suffocating feeling bearing down on him. All he wanted to do was get her and get out of there.

"Don't forget to take your ward with you," Itachi said, cutting through the swirling pressure. Katsuro could hear the smirk in his voice. This was as good as a dismissal.

At the door the kunoichi was stirring, and when he leaned over her, he found two clear green eyes looking back up at him. From her face he could tell she'd heard at least the end of their conversation. He bit his lip and looked away.

Itachi probably knew she was awake too and did this to torment her, bastard, he thought.

Katsuro grabbed the wrist bindings and hoisted her up. It was too soon for her to be walking, but he had no choice. He had to get her out of there before Itachi changed his mind and decided to kill her himself.

"Katsuro," Itachi called, then pitched the kunoichi's hip pack at him. "She needs to have everything she came with." Katsuro grudgingly caught the pack and turned away. Clamping a hand down on her shoulder, the young rogue steadied the kunoichi and half pushed her through the door in front of them.

It was not till she was outside and he was crossing the threshold that Itachi's voice carried out.

"I want this finished by dawn. I don't have to remind you of the personal consequences — for you and for her — if you fail to comply."

Katsuro stiffened, then let the flap fall behind him.

There was no way out of this. Itachi had cut off his last option, closed his last door. Now Katsuro had to make a choice, the girl or his group. But either way, she would be killed.

* * *

Sinking another toe into the soft sand, he watched numbly as it poured off, leaving little pyramids on the gritty river bank where he sat. Beside him, the kunoichi was beginning to stir, but he didn't move. Arms propped listlessly on bent knees, Katsuro felt more hopeless now than he did hours ago.

It was almost as if Itachi had read his mind before he'd left the tent. The last threat was aimed at exactly what Katsuro had planned to do. Just let her go. But without even saying it, Itachi let Kasturo know what he would do if she were deliberately set free. Itachi would have her hunted down and killed. It didn't happen often, but if things went wrong, Katsuro knew death was the only way they covered their tracks. The same applied to her, and Itachi's threat meant he'd personally make sure of it.

Katsuro wouldn't be killed of course, his value to the group was too high, but his punishment for defiance was sure to be brutal, even if he was Itachi's apprentice of sorts.

Katsuro got only a few steps away from the line of tents before he risked a sideways glance at the pale girl stumbling beside him. She was so disoriented she could barely walk. Pink hair tipped mercilessly forward, clinging to her face as she tried to focus on the ground. Even the gentlest shake to clear it away sent her reeling. He untied the binding and slung her arm around his neck, quickly brushing her hair back in the process.

They managed to get far enough away from the tents and down to the noisy protection of the river before he realized that going even a step further was useless.

Where the hell was he going? What was he going to do with her? Hopelessness crashed down on him.

Katsuro stopped in the sand beside the river, feet sinking under the additional weight of the nearly unconscious girl. Adjusting his arm around her waist, he hoisted her back up to her feet. He had hooked her arm around his neck, and for a while she supported herself, but now it just hung limp over his shoulder, threatening to slide off at any moment.

He needed to think, come up with a new plan. Katsuro hauled her to standing again. He needed to put her down.

The river cut into the land around the next bend, and Katsuro saw the strip of sand disappearing behind a crumbling bank. He headed right for it.

Easing the kunoichi down into the sand, he fell back beside her to wait out the side effects of the genjutsu. A few hours and she should be back on her feet again. Surely that would give him enough time to work something out.

But as the light slowly faded over the river, Katsuro was no closer to a solution than he was when he sat down. And the girl next to him was beginning to stir.

He sunk another boot toe into the soft sand and watched it pour off fluidly. In front of him, the clear river ran with streaks of purple and blue, stained by the colors of the late afternoon sky, the deepening shadows of the forest.

Sakura. He couldn't kill her. That wasn't even a possibility. But letting her live, letting her go, ran counter to Itachi's specific command. Itachi was the one who saved him and kept him safe. Did he really want to go against him?

Yet he knew that letting her just walk away put her in extreme danger. One of his group would hunt her down and kill her. However accompanying her even part of the way could expose him to the people who wanted to kill him. As Itachi had said, putting everything they've worked for in jeopardy. Just how far was he willing to go for her?

He dropped his head into his hands, tangling fistfuls of unruly brown hair.

Katsuro saw this for what it was, a test, a choice. Perhaps even a punishment.

Although she was abducted to be a spy, Itachi had seized on his preoccupation with her. His attachment, Itachi had called it. Now he was hellbent on making Katsuro sacrifice her to prove his loyalty to the group. Fuck.

Only Itachi could work up something like this. There were sharp angles to every plan of his, always something to get you hung up on. Katsuro had marveled at it in the past. Watched him weave a trap, catching everyone he wanted, planning for everything, and having it all work out in the end. But now he was the one the one caught up in it.

Beside him the kunoichi was waking up. Katsuro had become so accustomed to her breathing he could hear the change. Almost feel it. But he still didn't move.

And though he wanted to look at her, check in, make sure she was alright, he dreaded meeting her eyes. He didn't want her to ask any questions, and he didn't want to see her look of fear, or of hatred. Itachi was turning him into an entirely different kind of monster.

So he let her rest, let the waves of nausea lessen, even if it was eating up precious time and daylight.

'But what did it matter,' he thought dejectedly. He had no plan, no where to go. He had wasted his time running circular arguments and had nothing to show for it. He closed his eyes and waited.

Eventually she sat up, took a few deep breaths, looked around. Katsuro sat forward as well, but did not look back at her.

"What now," she said, her voice tight, tired.

"We go," he said quietly.

Katsuro stood, brushed the sand off him, and turned to help her up. She sought out his face, but he still wouldn't meet her eyes. Instead he pulled her to standing, letting her cling to his arm till she regained her balance.

Low voices and the steady crunch of footfalls on the flat land above them carried down the steep bank. Katsuro froze instinctively, eyes scanning the crust of earth, and whispered a "shhh" right next to the kunoichi's ear. She was swaying on her feet, and had ducked her head and squeezed her eyes shut against the dizziness, but she nodded once in acknowledgement. He grabbed her shoulder to keep her steady.

The footsteps came closer, the voices grew louder. Men going to camp, Katsuro thought. A moment later, the sounds were fading away.

They hadn't seen him, and he realized he didn't want to be seen. Those men could report back to Itachi, possibly tell him which direction they were leaving by.

It spurred him finally to some decision. The farther out from camp, the better off they'd be.

Once he was sure all was quiet around them, Katsuro checked the kunoichi over. She was rubbing a hand over her face, but her color looked better. And her balance seemed to be returning. That was good enough for him.

"Time to go," he said with more determination than he'd felt all day. Katsuro didn't know where they were going or what he was going to do, but he knew they needed to get as far away as possible. He'd figure something out. Hopefully.

"Come on, we'll do this together," he said. Katsuro threaded his arm back around her waist, turned her toward the river and began walking her down the bank. She stumbled a little, but moved forward.

They stayed to the larger rocks, moving together, and quickly crossed the river without a sound. A few steps more, and they disappeared into the safety of the tree line. But Katsuro didn't slow down. Arm still hooked around her, he kept going until the rushing sound of the river was dull and distant.

They stopped for a moment's rest. Sakura was feeling well enough to walk on her own now, although she'd never kept that pace had she not been locked to Katsuro.

Leaning against a tree, she waited while he backtracked to make sure they weren't followed. At length he came back up the wooded bank.

"We're safe," he said tersely, handing her the hip pack without looking at her. "Can you walk?"

Sakura nodded and slowly snapped the pack back on. It was the first time she'd seen it since she'd been taken. It was heavy and full. 'Everything she came with,' Itachi's voice echoed through her mind. She swallowed thickly.

"Good, we need to get as far as we can while there's still light," he responded, interrupting her thoughts. He moved on without waiting for her, and Sakura quietly fell in behind him.

They stuck to the pathless forest, moving downriver, it's rushing always within earshot. The sound filled the void made by their silence.

Sakura had heard the order issued by Itachi, although it felt more like a dream than a memory. She knew Katsuro had been told to kill her. And she had some idea that he didn't want to.

Several times she had almost asked him what he planned to do, but she had a sinking feeling he would not give her an answer. That maybe he'd not made up his mind yet. She knew it was cowardly, but she put off asking, and instead focused on getting as far away from that camp as possible.

Katsuro moved swiftly, and Sakura kept up fairly well. They wound past trees and under brush, their sounds nearly always muffled by the rolling river. Sometime it was wide and placid, the ground stretching out flat on either side; other times it turned narrow and roared over the rocks, gouging the earth with it's path. Then the pair had to watch each step atop the steep, treacherous banks.

They managed to cover quite a bit of ground before darkness slowed their progress. The river rolled close by again, somewhere beyond the curtain of night, and they had to take care not to get too close.

Sakura didn't mind slowing, exhaustion was starting to take it's toll and the darkness made the forest landscape perilous. She had stumbled before when she could see in front of her, but now she felt like she was tripping or dropping to her knee every other step.

There were no stars, no moon, even the outline of Katsuro was nearly indiscernible and constantly moving away from her. The roar of the churning water pounded relentlessly in her ears, crashing everywhere around her.

More focused on trying to find Katsuro in the blanketing darkness than a clearer path, Sakura hooked a foot on a boulder and fell forward onto another one. The sickening crack of bone hitting rock drowned out the river sound for a moment.

Sitting up just enough to clutch her knees, Sakura rocked against the intense pain. She didn't want to cry, she'd cried enough for a whole lifetime, but it hurt so damn bad. Everything hurt, she thought. A sob escaped anyway.

Gritting her teeth against the tears and pain, she told herself to get up, keep moving. Even if Katsuro never told her where they were going, this was her best chance to escape. Her last chance.

"Sakura!" Katsuro's voice called faintly out of the darkness. "Are you there?" it rose sharp and urgent over the din as he got closer.

"Here," she said, pushed down the throbbing pain enough to respond. She sniffed, but didn't move.

"Did you fall? You ok?" he said with a relieved breath. A warm hand patted out her shoulder, her elbow.

"I can't see," she said stupidly, voice thick with tears.

"I know. It's getting dangerous," he said with a nervous laugh. It couldn't hide the shakiness in his voice. For him to actually say that, after everything they'd been through without comment from him, made Sakura's toes curl in fear.

She brushed her knees, pulled herself back together, and let him help her to standing. But once she was fully upright, he still didn't let go. Instead, Katsuro flattened his slightly calloused hand against her smooth palm, and gently intertwined his fingers with hers.

Sakura went still, her hand frozen. He couldn't help but notice.

"We— We've got to stick close," he offered as a weak explanation. He sounded strangely vulnerable, something she would never attribute to the boy during daylight hours. He must have thought she had fallen into the river.

But she understood why he held on to her so tightly. Perhaps he was just as adrift now as she was, even behind all his bravado. The warm touch was a flicker of hope.

She squeezed his hand softly in mute acceptance. He squeezed back a little harder, curling his fingers to brush her skin.

"Come on," he said, tugging her arm lightly. "We need your light."

"What?" she said, thoroughly confused.

"Your healing chakra, let it cover your hand," he said, and waited. A thin layer of green chakra pooled around her free hand and threw a dim light at their feet. Sakura saw then that the ground crumbled away beside her. Somewhere in that black abyss was the river. She shuddered involuntarily, and the light wavered.

"Don't look," Katsuro said with another quick squeeze of his hand. "Let's just keep going."

They climbed steadily up the steep wooded bank above the river, and slid down the other side, aiming for flatter terrain in the gully. Thick trees rose up on either side, but the trek was easier, and the noisy river was at least muffled a little by the ridge.

"Can't we go to the trees," Sakura said as they ducked around a particularly large trunk.

"No, our chakra signature would be too high," he said. She frowned. "And we're more likely to run into someone," he added quietly.

Sakura mulled what he'd said. The chakra used for gripping trees was no more than she used now to light her hand. But if they were intent on staying hidden, then the ground was definitely the best route. On all the long distance missions she'd ever been on, they'd taken to the trees. She assumed most other nins did as well.

Reflecting on her previous life jolted her memory. Katsuro had said something earlier, called her from the darkness when she'd fallen. And she'd responded.

He said her name. _Her_ name, not the name she'd given him.

Her mouth went dry.

"Katsuro," she whispered. "H-how did you know my name?"

"Oh that," he said awkwardly. "You told me last night, before you went to sleep."

"I don't remember that," she said, shaking her head. Her voice rose a notch. "I don't remember going to sleep." Panic was closing her throat. The sickness. Genjutsu. It must have been. He must have done it.

A desperate thought found it's way into her heart. She was wrong about him. He was going to follow Itachi's orders. She had placed her trust in him, and he was going to kill her for it. She'd made yet another mistake.

The wind bore down on the treetops in a woosh. Katsuro stopped suddenly in front of her, but she barely registered it.

"Where are you taking me?" she said, feeling sick. But he didn't answer.

"Are you going to—" she demanded, but he cut her off.

"Not so loud," he whispered harshly and pulled her hand to keep moving, his grip painfully tight.

But it was only secondary to her inner turmoil. Reality was digging in it's claws.

She looked for any opening in desperation, following him simply because she couldn't command her body to do otherwise.

"Why don't you just let me run," she begged, "tell them I escaped. No one would ever know."

He only laughed coldly. "Someone escaping me? Everyone would know."

A bird shot out from a nearby treetop, startling them both. She dimmed the chakra at her hand. He waited a moment, listening hard, before pushing on with even more urgency.

"I know what he said. I know what you have to do," she continued, voice cracking, hoping, praying he would just say something.

But Katsuro was silent. He was nearly dragging her through the undergrowth. Leaves pattered down around them from the high canopy.

He didn't correct her. That only meant one thing. Tears stung her eyes. She should never have believed in him.

"Then why— why drag this out?" she sobbed. "Why don't you just kill me and get it over with?"

Her voice echoed off the trees around them.

"Stop it" he shouted back angrily at her, squeezing her hand hard. "Just stop it. I'm not going to—" but a cracking branch cut them both off.

"Shhh" he said. She extinguished the chakra glow completely, and they stepped closer together. He still had her hand, but with his free one he dugs his fingers down under his collar and pulled the face wraps back up.

They had stopped in a natural clearing. There was no undergrowth to hide them here, but movement to a safer area now was out of the question.

"Get behind me," Katsuro said quietly, and pushed her a step back before letting go of her hand.

The wind, the falling leaves, it was all a cover to hide the movements of someone. Damn it, he should have been paying closer attention, he thought. Not letting his emotions distract him—

Branches creaked faintly above them. Some unknown group was alighting in the trees, circling in on them from the canopy.

Katsuro dropped into a defensive stance. A limb groaned nearby. He whipped his head in its direction just as a leafy branch rattled from the other side.

More than one, he thought, and they're getting closer.

Loosening his fingers for hand signs or a ready grab at the kunai strapped to his leg, he heard her feet shift against the leaves behind him. The idea of her sinking into a battle position brought him to clarity.

She had to get out of here. He'd make a way for her to do it.

He raced through the scenarios. Escaping in a surprise attack would give her some measure of protection. As long as she could make it to Konoha, she'd be safe. Itachi would never seek her out there.

And his safe return from an ambush would free her from Itachi's death sentence. Katsuro knew his value, and his power. His survival was of the utmost importance in any situation and he would leverage that as the cost of letting her go.

He blew out a low, focusing breath. He alone could make the difference.

There'd be punishment to be sure — being open to attack was never tolerated — but it would be on his shoulders now, not hers. A small sacrifice to make for her life.

He scanned the blackness around him, anticipation coursing with the blood through his veins. He was more than ready for these assholes to drop down. For the first time he prepared to fight for something, someone, other than himself. He never thought he'd be glad he had such an unholy power to command. But if it meant she'd make it out alive...

Footsteps padded briefly on a branch. The sound was unmistakeable now. Katsuro licked his lips, eying the nearly impenetrable canopy. It didn't matter how many assailants were around them. He knew he could wipe them all out.

Behind him, Sakura's boot ground into the leaves. He could picture her, knees and elbows flexed, ready to fight whatever was lurking in the darkness. She was preparing for battle, but this was no longer her fight.

She had to run. It was her only chance.

"You've got to get out of here," he whispered over his shoulder. "I'll fight them off. When you see an opening, take it. Run as far and as fast as you can. Follow the river, it'll get you to your village."

She blinked at the darkness. He wanted her to run? Was he serious? He was going to let her live?

It seemed her trust had not been misplaced. She had doubted him, doubted herself. But there was still hope.

Adrenaline pushed out the despair and exhaustion. She brushed away traitorous tears. She knew she should focus on strategy, but the hope that her ordeal was over would not be denied.

To go home. To leave the hell of not-knowing behind her. Forget it ever happened. Possibility shined in front of her.

No, that wasn't right. Not forget all of it — not Katsuro. The beacon of hope dimmed. If she left, there would be heavy a price to pay.

Katsuro opened his mouth to repeat what he'd said, sure she didn't hear it, when she whispered back, "come with me."

"What?" he said, completely thrown.

"Come with me," she repeated with more sureness.

"No," he responded, smiling. It wasn't at all what he expected her to say.

"I know you're not safe either," she said, "not if you don't kill me...Then come with me."

"No. I'll be fine." he reassured. She was concerned, too. He smiled a little wider. It wasn't an illusion, their connection was real. Any lingering doubt at going against direct orders washed away, but his voice turned serious. "I can't go to Konoha."

There were more noises around them, closing in. He knew he must tell her quickly. She began to retort, but he cut her off.

"You said you'd protect me too?" he said under his breath.

"Of course, I—"

"Then you must never tell anyone about me, ever," he continued in an urgent whisper. "My old village will hunt me down and kill me. Not my age or what I look like. Please do this for me. Not anything, ever. Ok?...Ok?"

But there was no answer.

Behind him, the air shifted subtly. A thin breeze licked his skin, shivered the ends of his hair, where previously it had been still. Blocked by a body. Her body.

Katsuro reached back desperately to grab her, touch her. But even as his arm swung around, the awful certainty of what had happened tore through him. Fingers grasped at empty space. His stomach tightened. She was already gone.

Whoever caught her up this time, it couldn't be good.

* * *

_Chapter 15 - Returned_

_Any thoughts Katsuro might have had on pursuing her were wiped away when another assailant landed squarely in front of him. Katsuro hopped back instinctively, but wasn't fast enough to escape being clipped in the mouth. _

_"Don't you fucking look at her!" the nin in front of him roared, bearing down on him. "I'm your opponent now!"_

_But the warm blood pooling inside his lip, the metallic taste and smell overwhelming his senses, was like stoking a fire. Katsuro let his new-found sources of hate warm him. He quickly jerked down the mouth covering and spit out blood._

_"Yes," Katsuro growled. "Yes, you are."_

* * *

**Author's notes:**

This chapter brings a lot of things full circle. Katsuro's origins have been revealed, and hopefully you have some idea of what shaped him. And he has changed because of Sakura. The person he was in the beginning would never stick up for her the way he does now. So I've woven in a lot of elements to reinforce this change.

So these notes either reflect some aspect of character change or the resolution of earlier statements, intentions, emotions. As usual spoiler notes and a few more filled out chapter notes on the website.

Please read and review!

* * *

**Chapter notes**

• A word on genjutsu sickness — I'm taking liberties from the manga, basing it on Kakashi's down time after being caught in Itachi's genjutsu and later using the mangekyo sharingan. A great power with drawbacks.

• _Either Katsuro had grossly underestimated his former village or, he thought with a measure of disbelief, his superior had given him faulty information._ — Katsuro is beginning to see Itachi in a new light. It's the first crack in seeing that the way things have been presented may not be true.

• _Katsuro's emotions still rose to the surface in physical nuances. Even in defiance, he was as easy to read as a book._ — So the techniques Katsuro has used with Sakura, observing for a purpose, he has learned from Itachi, who is infinitely better. This is a little taste of Itachi's manipulation that has helped shape Katsuro. Even used the same line Katsuro used on Sakura, about being read like a book.

• _"If she'd said she wanted to stay with you, I'd have killed her on the spot," Itachi said coldly._ — So Katsuro has some idea now that his plan from the day before would have failed horribly.

• _Everything was unraveling, Katsuro thought, and Itachi still wasn't giving him a straight answer._ — Reference to the ribbon metaphor in the first chapter and the ambush chapter. Both of those referred to a path, and for the bulk of this chapter there is no clear path for Katsuro.

• _She was wrong about him. He was going to follow Itachi's orders. She had placed her trust in him, and he was going to kill her for it. She'd made yet another mistake._ — Reference to her feelings from the first few chapters of constantly making mistakes around Sasuke and Sai. This shakes her confidence terribly.

• _He didn't correct her. That only meant one thing. Tears stung her eyes. She should never have believed in him._ — I would love to write Sakura as being so head over heels for him that she believes without a doubt that he will get her out of this. But it wouldn't be true. There are some fundamental differences between the two that exist no matter how highly they think of each other. He's a rogue, she's a Konoha nin. It's monumental that they even have the level of trust they do. And if this is the relationship they carve out of a dire situation, then it will be great when all the other illusions and barriers do fall away. But right now, there is still a lot of doubt, of themselves and each other. So I'm writing for honest reactions rather than comfortable ones. And I hope that comes through, but in case it doesn't...now you know!

• _She had to get out of here. He'd make a way for her to do it. _— This whole scene is the parallel of the ambush scene, and his choices are a direct result of Sakura's actions. He knows he's the valuable one there, just as she was the priority before. He's willing to make a sacrifice for her freedom, just as she was for the family. _"He alone could make the difference"_ is the same clear reasoning she used, so I echoed the sentence she used. And ultimately, they both realized that protecting someone else is what makes them stronger, without fear, willing to go to any distance.

• _"You've got to get out of here," he whispered over his shoulder. "I'll fight them off. When you see an opening, take it. Run as far and as fast as you can. Follow the river, it'll get you to your village." _— Echoes the words Sasuke used to Naruto (in the battle with Gaara when he tells Naruto to run with Sakura because he doesn't want to see anyone else precious die in front of him) and Obito used to Kakashi (in the Gaiden) in the manga. There is no three man team here, so Katsuro tells his most precious person to run as far and as fast as she can.

• _Whoever caught her up this time, it couldn't be good._ — Full circle completely. Sakura is caught up again, and this time Katsuro, the one who took her the first time, now feels all the pain and loss of it.

* * *

Witchymage, celious2, narutorocks - I'm so glad you enjoyed the chapter. It was meant to be sweet and a break from all the rest. Your kind words made me glad I set it apart.

Jitchoo - you may never see this, but yes, Katsuro is Naruto!

Moldock and crazyefra, nannykiwi and einheri, eluveitie and saber and linkoot - thanks so, so much.

Piper - I feel the same about Sakura, she's got the farthest to pull out of all the rookie 9. So I'm writing to her ability to persevere.

Kungfu - on the mark as usual! Mizuki is bad, bad, bad. I'm working hard to stay away from the more common plot devices, without going off the deep-end in OOC-ness. So your review means a lot!

Kimiss - yeah, the chapters do have little meanings behind them. I'm trying to make a flow, not a stack. First one was Taken, next one (ch 15) is Returned. That will bring it all full circle. So that there is some significance, either within the chapter or in relation to others. Not a big deal, but it's intentional. Thanks for noticing!

Animemistress - I'm so glad you liked the omitted scene! I hated to let it go, so I'm happy you enjoyed it even though it was outside the main text!


	15. Returned

Chapter 15 - Returned

Katsuro scanned the mesh of black branches for an out of place silhouette, trying desperately to find her in the unforgiving darkness.

A short suck of breath was the only warning he heard before a fireball exploded on the spot where he stood.

He evaded it with a quick roll. But instead of using the flash of light to identify his opponent, the rogue raked his gaze back across the canopy hoping for any sign of Sakura.

Nearby, a small tree erupted in flames, lighting the woodlands like a torch. Katsuro could hear the snapping twigs, knew his attacker was closing in, but he didn't care. He left himself open, using the light to find her.

Pale hair flashed high on a branch, and he snapped his eyes up. She's there, he thought, standing to get a better look. A black arm wound around her waist, and half her body was blocked by the unknown assailant who'd used the cover of darkness to snatch her up. But she was there, and still alive.

Bucking against the black fingers clamped over her mouth, Sakura whipped her head around to look back. White hands tore at the dark sleeve. The branch bent under their shifting weight.

As the other nin readied to lunge, Katsuro desperately sought her eyes. No longer a pleasant green, they flashed orange, reflecting the unnatural light of burning trees. She caught his look and gave him a quick, nearly imperceptible nod. A silent communication, but of what he was unsure.

And then she was gone. The nin launched off the branch, and they were both swallowed up by the darkness.

Any thoughts Katsuro had of pursuing her were shattered when another nin dropped down in front of him. Katsuro hopped back out of instinct, but wasn't fast enough to escape being clipped in the mouth.

"Don't you fucking look at her!" the ninja in front of him roared, bearing down on him. "I'm your opponent now!"

Katsuro skidded back in momentary surprise, but the warm blood pooling inside his lip, the metallic taste and smell overwhelming his senses, was like stoking a fire. Never taking his eyes from his target, Katsuro jerked down the mouth covering and spit out blood.

"Yes," he growled. "Yes, you are."

In front of him was the source of all his problems. Sasuke Uchiha.

In that moment, the length of a panted breath, the time it took for the two opponents to size each other up, everything became clear to Katsuro.

Their attackers were Konoha nins, from the very place he'd been slowly moving toward the whole night. He knew he should be glad, _knew_ he should. They had alleviated so many problems by finally retrieving her. She would be safe now, he told himself. But Katsuro wasn't alright.

It went against reason, but he still felt like she'd been taken, stolen away. Like that village had ripped something else from him, and left him alone with nothing. Again. He ground his hands into fists.

But now he had someone to blame.

Katsuro flipped backward into the black shadows, mind switching gears, slipping from pain to anger to strategy. He wanted to lure the younger Uchiha into the safety of the darker woods, where his katon hadn't yet set everything ablaze.

He could test Sasuke's skills under the cover of darkness, and return with valuable information for Itachi. He could get in a few punishing blows for Sasuke's treatment of Sakura.

And he could keep the kunoichi safe. He would tell Itachi the price of the hard-won information about Sasuke's skills was that she escaped. And he would embellish his tale by telling him that he barely escaped. That the younger brother was stronger than he expected. This could work, he thought. Itachi would never seek her out in Konoha. And everything he'd every hoped to learn from her about Sasuke, hopefully Katsuro could provide. Itachi would forget about her.

Katsuro sized up the kid who was pitted as his target, his rival, his obstacle to overcome. Beating him meant her freedom.

Glancing past him at the tree line, the rogue realized he had no idea how many more there were from Konoha. But he wasn't going to let this opportunity pass. He had to do something to keep him engaged.

Across from him, black shadows streaking across his face, Sasuke approached the retreating nin cautiously. Just seeing him back away roiled him.

Sasuke knew he should fall back, take advantage of this man's apparent cowardice to make a clean withdrawal. Engaging the enemy was strictly prohibited this mission. But Sakura was safely on her way home with Sai. And the urge to strike at Itachi any way he could was so, so strong. He loosened his fingers, ready to make another make another hand seal, release another fiery katon, if he needed to.

He narrowed his eyes on his target. The disguised nin had retreated to the shadows, using the deeply contrasting firelight to his advantage. With reflexes too quick for the average low-life criminal, the enemy was obviously baiting him to come into the darkness. Sasuke did a quick sweep of the trees. There may be more waiting there. It could be a trap, he thought. That strengthened his resolve to end any pursuit of this guy.

His feet crackled down into the leaves as he drew to a stop. In the wavering light, his adversary's eyes glittered back at him. But Sasuke had his orders, as much as he hated them. It was time to go.

Sasuke rocked back on his heel and began to back away, eyes scanning the woods for any other threats.

Katsuro stepped back out into the light, hands squarely on his hips. He had to make him stay.

"That's it? Just going to walk away?" he said, laughing meanly. It echoed through the silence.

But Katsuro ended the taunt there. His voice turned to a low, cutting sneer.

"Then you're weaker than Itachi said," he growled.

The effect was instant, like dropping a bomb into the woods.

A guttural roar tore from Sasuke's throat, and Katsuro could see clearly the sharingans spinning in his overly wide eyes. Hands blurred through the seal but he was too angry to bring his hands to his mouth and direct the katon. Without any control, he sent out an enormous, rageful fire.

Easily five times as big as the first blast, this stream of fire-laden chakra engulfed a huge swath of woods in flames. But his fury rendered the fire burst thin. Though it exploded through the trees, incinerating every leaf and small branch it could, the deadly core of white hot flame was not behind it.

But the Uchiha was beyond caring. He shot behind the rolling wall of fire to pursue the rogue. Ready to kill him now, and anyone else who might be with him.

The dark woods around Katsuro lit up like unholy daylight. The young rogue flipped backward, using minimal chakra to bounce from tree to tree, smirking inwardly. Although the fire show was impressive, he could add predictably to Sasuke's list of faults.

Barreling out of the inferno, Sasuke aimed straight for the rogue. He bounded from tree to tree behind him, orange embers ricocheting in his wake. Flinging a spate of shurikens after the rogue, Sasuke hoped to slow him, but each missed. The line of kunai he tried next either sunk into the trees or slashed between them, always missing the slippery fighter.

Katsuro moved from tree to tree, working his way back up the ridge line he'd just trekked down, until he felt sure Sasuke had exhausted his supply of weapons. Then he took to the sloping ground, hoping to lure him into closer combat among the deeper shadows at the base of the trees.

But Sasuke saw through that ruse handily. Tearing down the bark after him, he formed a seal and lit up the underbrush with a fireball. Feet tucked up, he leapt through the blaze to pummel the rogue. However on the other side of the fire, Katsuro was waiting for him.

Sasuke sailed out of the fire wall with his arm pulled back, fist tight, ready to impact the opponent he was so sure was there. He threw a quick jab, but Katsuro was quicker. The rogue leaned back and Sasuke's fist flew past Katsuro's face to dent the tree next to him.

The air between them smelled singed from over-used chakra. Sasuke was angry and putting too much force into his punches to correct them. And Katsuro took full advantage of the weakness.

Sasuke spun around for his next offensive, but Katsuro anticipated him. Blocking the Uchiha's punch with a forearm, Katsuro lunged for his face, catching his jaw with the first two knuckles of his fist. Sasuke's head reeled back.

The rogue didn't let up. Pivoting on one foot, Katsuro swung his leg into a roundhouse kick, lodging his boot deep into the Uchiha's gut. His eyes bulged in surprise, and he let out a soft "oof." The force of the kick pitched his body back through the trees like a ragdoll.

'You may be relentless,' Katsuro thought, 'but that's not enough.'

Though he had many physical similarities to his brother, Sasuke's fighting style was nothing like him. The younger Uchiha was raging and hot-headed; Itachi was never, ever caught off guard. He hardly broke a sweat in a fight. And they weren't even fights, it just depended on how long Itachi was willing to let an attack continue before he ended his opponent. The elder Uchiha was relentless too, but he was devoid of emotion. Never out of control. Not like this one, Katsuro thought. His movements were fast, but disappointingly predictable.

Sasuke shot backwards across the forest floor, arms crossed protectively over his midsection after the punishing kick. But his landing was remarkably controlled. He flipped his feet underneath him, dropped a knee down to the forest floor, and skidded through the leaves to a stop.

From the low crouch, Sasuke's red sharingans glowed up at the rogue from under his jagged black bangs. He gave a small, wicked smile and let both arms fly from his waist. Kunai shot out from both fists as his arms arced wide around each side. The hidden blades made a low zinging sound as they raced toward Katsuro.

Katsuro only smirked back. 'Still one step ahead of you buddy,' he thought as he flipped up the tree behind him. Running a miniscule amount of chakra to his feet, the rogue stuck to the tree to wait out the attack.

If the wide net of kunai wasn't a tip off of his attack, then the strange sound was a dead giveaway. Wired kunai were an Uchiha clan specialty. No surprise the younger brother would have mastered it as well.

Below Katsuro, the younger Uchiha stood frozen as the wired kunai snapped back toward him. The arrogant smile was gone.

Katsuro watched him retract the wires almost immediately after he'd released the kunai. Sasuke was so fully expecting to catch his opponent by surprise, he didn't make sure his target couldn't escape.

Kunai whistling toward him, Sasuke couldn't move. His face was slack with devastated surprised. But just at the moment of impact, he dissolved in a wisp of smoke. The kunai thudded dully into a spinning block of wood where Sasuke had been a split-second before.

Katsuro's eyes went wide: a kawarimi no jutsu. It was a setup. The hairs on the back of his neck stood on end.

When the Uchiha flung his kunai, he must have substituted his body for one of them. The man Katsuro saw in front of him was simply an illusion. The real one was launching another attack. Then he was somewhere close by, Katsuro thought, eyes darting everywhere at once.

Above the rogue, Sasuke hurtled down the tree with his katon already in motion. Thumb and forefinger curled in a small ring, he forced the stream of fire through his fingers with deadly precision. Katsuro looked up just in time to see the yellow flames tearing down the rough bark, heading straight for him.

Nowhere to go, the rogue leapt straight down to the clearing, amid the wires and kunai of the last failed attack. But Sasuke was forcing the rogue right where he wanted him. The kunai assault was a sacrifice to get in position above him. Sasuke's small, wicked smile returned. Now he'd got him.

Intentionally staying behind the katon, the Uchiha raced toward the ground. But this time he was in control.

Dragging a hand behind him, he slowed his momentum before he ran out of tree, and pushed off with his palm. Plunging feet-first through the last curl of fire, he tucked up a knee and delivered a shallow kick to the rogue nin's chest, knocking him off balance. Sasuke pressed the advantage. Correcting in mid-air, he reached forward, grabbed the man's shirt with one hand, and cracked him across the face with the other.

Even with the concealments muffling it, the explosive sound of bone hitting bone was unmistakeable.

Searing pain shot through Katsuro. His vision blurred out for a moment as he skidded on his back across the forest floor. Blinking away spots, Katsuro saw Sasuke hit the ground with one bounce, scoop up two kunai, then tear up another tree.

The Uchiha had caught him again from above. That wasn't luck, that was strategy. Sasuke found a weak spot early on and pursued him until there was an opening. He parlayed each failed attack into another assault. While Katsuro thought he was playing the Uchiha, perhaps all this time Sasuke had been playing him.

The thought of being manipulated by his rival, coupled with the intense pain, was like unleashing a fire within. His hatred of Konoha, brought to the surface by his time spent with Sakura, found an outlet in Sasuke.

Governed by something other than himself, Katsuro launched after Sasuke with a feral roar. He tore up the tree next to his, shredding the bark with the surging chakra at his feet. An unnatural rage rolled through him, drenching everything red, warping his mind.

Katsuro no longer cared what the Uchiha was planning. He was going to demolish it by sheer force.

Grasping the tree, he felt the raw energy burning the edges of his hands. He knew without looking that they were faintly outlined with red chakra. He could feel the tree sizzling lightly under his touch. He thought for an instant easily he could use that power, and what he could do with it...

And then, like flipping a switch, the demon's chakra arced wildly out of control. It ripped across his chest in hot streaks, clawing him open from the inside.

It wanted what he wanted. To rip, to kill, to destroy. All of it. Their goals were always intertwined, as were their fates. The power was his, and it whispered that he should not stop here. He should kill Sasuke, then continue on...and burn Konoha to the ground.

Searing images flashed through Katsuro's mind — a village he'd not seen in years, the ground littered with dead bodies, the blood oozing from his hands — but he knew these memories weren't his.

Although Katsuro desperately wanted to hurt those who had hurt them, the demon was only looking for the fastest way out. The power he promised was a lie.

And it didn't understand why he was out there. It wasn't to kill Sasuke, it was to keep Sakura out of danger.

Her name was a cool spot on the spiraling, malicious chakra. He clung to the moment of clarity.

He was the one in danger now. If anyone from Konoha recognized his chakra, it was a death sentence. They would drag him back and unleash the monster.

This had gone too far. Even as he leapt away from the tree to bodily rip into the Uchiha, he knew he had to get out of there.

Katsuro forced himself to turn in the air. Resist the kyuubi, resist delivering a fatal blow. He meant to push off the tree and disappear into the darkness. But Sasuke had launched at him in the same moment, looking as wild and blood-thirsty as he felt. Looking as if he wanted to kill him too.

Sasuke had warily watched the rogue nin rip up the tree next to him when he sensed something had changed. The air shifted, becoming darker, deadlier. Sasuke's sharingans spun at the threat.

A strange power rolled off the ninja. Hot and suffocating, it carried with it the unshakeable stench of death. Not a physical smell, but the strangling memory of it. Sasuke knew it well. It was the way he felt when he witnessed his clan's massacre. The feeling of being trapped, with death all around, closing in.

Though was trapped before, as a child, when his brother wiped everyone out. He swallowed the feeling. He wasn't trapped now. Anger churned within him that this ninja, this extension of Itachi, could make him relive it.

Pitching the kunai aside, Sasuke leapt off the tree at the rogue nin, desperate to stop him, wound him, kill him with his bare hands. Make him pay for the wounds that would never, ever heal.

Clashing in the empty space high between the two trees, both ninjas blocked the other's blows. They were both locked in a tumble, Katsuro with his foot bearing down on Sasuke's chest, and Sasuke with his hand clasped over his leg. The rogue nin tried to break free, but Sasuke was keeping the rogue steady, holding him right where he wanted him.

Staring past the stabs of black bangs over his eyes, the comforting clasp of the tiger hand seal, Sasuke kept his aim on the rogue as he fell.

Pushing away the nausea, the horror, the memories of his dead clansmen, Sasuke let a controlled fire fill his veins. Then he channeled the superheated chakra to his throat, letting it build there. Holding it in longer and longer. He knew it wasn't safe. It burned his insides until his mind screamed for release, but still he held it back.

Sasuke narrowed his eyes and pulled his clasped hands to his face. Pressing two long fingers to his lips, he took aim. He'd get to Itachi eventually, but right the monster who brought back all the pain was going to pay.

Twisting against the fall, Katsuro glimpsed the hand seal, the Uchiha taking aim. He knew what was coming: another katon. And at such a close range, there was no way he could escape it.

Katsuro pushed his boot into Sasuke's gut to launch away. He hoped it was enough.

Beneath him, Sasuke never took his eyes from his target. He tightened his mid-section against the crushing blow of his opponent, then rounded his back to defray the impact of the ground. Instead of letting it knock the wind out of him, he used the force of impact to blow out a plume like never before. The fire-laden chakra was so strong it burned his hands from directing it. But he wasn't about to let go.

A billow of blood-red fire uncurled through the woods with a low, ominous woosh. Flame upon flame rolled in every direction, with the white-hot core roaring up behind. This katon was perfectly executed to devour everything in it's path.

Barely ahead of the initial blast, Katsuro could feel the molten heat immediately at his back.

Grabbing desperately at a low branch, he managed to plant his foot against the tree and vault up the ridge line in front of the flames. But the rushing fire was faster. Katsuro felt the heat through his clothes, burning through his feet. He tucked up his legs. There was no way to land.

Angry flames licked out beneath him. The kyuubi's chakra burned him up from within.

Katsuro grabbed a branch, hoping to use it to further his leap. The fire was so close on him it singed the hairs off the back of his hand as he held on. The limb seared across his palm, but it held fast. Katsuro threw all his weight onto it and pitched his body away from the oncoming flame.

But halfway through the swing, the branch gave way. And there wasn't enough momentum to catapult him further.

Katsuro plummeted toward the angry fire plume, burning embers of the branch falling down around him.

Holding his breath, the rogue crushed his eyes shut against the blinding white-hot flames. He prepared to hit ground with any other body part than his feet.

But impact never came. Instead the heat turned cold. The light stopped burning through his eyelids.

The branch falling with him still crackled with fire, but a roaring sound was drawing closer. He opened his eyes with a gasp. Somehow he had launched off the cliff where Sakura had nearly fallen earlier. He was plunging headlong into the river.

Katsuro twisted in midair, scrambling to get his feet underneath him. Light from the fireball turned the river to gold. An enormous black boulder jutted out into the middle, snagging the light, and forcing the water to eddy and swirl loudly around it. Katsuro aimed right for the rock.

He landed in a crouch, ready to launch again if someone was hard on his heels, but only the burning branch clattered across the flat top of the boulder behind him. Katsuro stood and peered up at the cliff edge, waiting.

The fireball had vanished into the air above him, but orange cinders still rained down on Katsuro from the burning trees. The fresh embers clung to his clothes, trailing up wisps of smoke. The river was losing it's golden light and the shadows were deepening again.

Katsuro drew a few deep breaths but kept his eyes trained on the cliff. He was caught between wanting the bastard to follow him and knowing he should use this break to escape. Live to fight him another day. When he didn't have to hold back.

A silhouette appeared atop the ridge. Sasuke's shoulders were heaving from panting. He stared down brazenly at the rogue, but didn't make a move to continue. At least, not yet.

Hands ground into tight fists at his sides, Katsuro glared black challengingly. His eyes were burnished red with the reflected light of the burning forest. Gray streams of smoke rose into the air from the back of his shirt, braiding together and forming menacing, unnatural tips behind him.

The desire to pound Sasuke Uchiha into oblivion was still so strong, so visceral, that he didn't move for fear he would give in and launch back up the rock face. But Katsuro knew he couldn't, no matter how much he wanted to.

The kyuubi's chakra was harsh and tangible. It had worked it's way to the surface. He had barely escaped. The Uchiha had provoked him much more than he ever expected.

But Katsuro swept all reasoning aside. He half-hoped Sasuke would follow him. Thumbing away blood from his busted lip, he thought how much he'd like to have another go at him.

Sharingans still shining, his hands fisted at his sides, Sasuke looked like he felt the same.

But another figure materialized at the Uchiha's shoulder. And shouts rang out in the woods behind Kastsuro. The firestorm was drawing a lot of attention.

"We have to go. Now," the voice of an older nin carried down. But Sasuke didn't seem inclined to cooperate. The new arrival spared a glance at the rogue. Katsuro could see a face concealment.

"We'll pick this up another time," the man said a little more sternly. "Let's go."

One last, hard look, then both Konoha nins disappeared from ridge line.

The voices coming through the woods behind him diverted upriver. Men from his group. They'd raced to the burning woods, hoping for some action.

Katsuro shot one last look at the jagged line of the cliff.

It was over. They would not pursue him. Even after that frightening loss of control, his secret was still safe.

Adrenaline was dropping, the surge of chakra was receding. He was alone again.

The one he'd fought so hard for was gone. The power that had driven him on, fiery and destructive, had washed away in the aftermath. He felt different, like he'd been left behind. Exhausted and... he couldn't find the right word.

Unbidden, the image of the forgotten wooden cup left at the side of the old well came to mind.

'An empty cup in an abandoned temple,' he thought with a weary laugh. 'Yeah, that's about right.'

He felt hollow. Emptied out. Missing something. Just as he'd never had a connection with anyone like her before, he'd never felt that particular kind of alone.

But he shouldn't dwell on it, Katsuro told himself with a sigh. He rubbed his hands tiredly over his eyes. Though he hated having to let her go, she would survive now. And he had Konoha to thank for it.

He blinked at the thought, then shook his head ruefully. For once, fate's twist was not cruel.

Katsuro leapt away from the cold, darkening river. It was a long way back to camp.

* * *

"She did this to you?" Itachi said furiously at the sight of Katsuro's bruised face. The young rogue touched his swollen, aching cheek. Dried blood flaked away from the corner of his mouth. The acrid smell of burnt clothing was quickly filling the space.

"No," Katsuro said tiredly. "She got away."

Silence made the air in the tent feel heavy. The elder Uchiha sat slowly back against the seat, black eyes never leaving Katsuro's face. His anger at the perceived disobedience was nearly palpable.

"Explain," he bit out.

"There was an ambush, and I was separated from her. This," Katsuro said, pointing to his cheek. "this was inflicted by Uchiha Sasuke."

Itachi did not move, but his mouth slowly curved into a smile.

"You encountered Konoha then?" he said, an eyebrow quirking up at the interesting change of events.

"Yes," Katsuro said, "but I only fought Sasuke."

"I see," Itachi said, looking over the injuries again with a more clinical eye. Katsuro kept the flash of anger in check. It was clear Itachi was only using him to measure Sasuke's strength.

"And, I assume, you withheld your _abilities_ to keep from being detected," Itachi ventured. Katsuro gave a single, tight nod.

"Good," Itachi said, satisfied.

Katsuro didn't feel like there was anything good about it. He hated Sasuke and was beginning to hate his master. He hadn't truly withheld his power, he'd nearly lost control of it... And he had lost her.

Katsuro prodded the tender cheek absent-mindedly. He had also forgotten how much he hated pain.

The power of the kyuubi to protect it's vessel always meant that he healed quickly, easily. In times of stress, the demon chakra nearly overpowered his to combat the threat. It's will to survive stronger than any human will.

But the effortless healing had not kicked in. Katsuro could guess why. He'd nearly burned out his chakra over the last few days. And the kyuubi chakra had been spent trying to push through the opening made by Katsuro's unbridled rage. Rubbing a hand across his chest, the young rogue felt like he'd had two opponents instead of one.

But Katsuro already knew when he fought Sasuke that he was going to pay for it later. Normally, if he was punched, the demon chakra would insulate him against the pain, then swirl in with his own to supercharge his anger and strength. Opponents never stood a chance. But this time each punch hurt like hell.

Katsuro's one consolation was that somewhere in the world that bastard felt just as bad as he did.

"Were you able to find out anything?" Itachi said.

Katsuro rubbed his sore jaw, nodded, then began the litany of everything he had discovered about Sasuke's skills

The elder Uchiha settled back, slung one hand out of the front of his cloak and listened closely to every word.

Katsuro recounted the battle and what he deduced from Sasuke's fighting techniques. He covered every aspect he could think of and answered all of Itachi's questions. At length, Itachi grew silent, mulling the wealth of new information.

Katsuro exhaled tiredly, let his eyes slide half-closed and waited. He knew Itachi wasn't finished, there was still another matter to attend to. And the Uchiha never forgot any loose ends.

Slipping his hand back into his sleeve and sitting forward, Itachi refocused his gaze on Katsuro.

"And what of the girl," he drawled. "I suppose she got away in the midst of it all?"

"No, she was taken before it began."

"There were others," Itachi remembered. "How many?"

"I know of only two more."

"The reconnaissance team," Itachi said with a measure of authority, obviously pleased he was still able to predict their movements. "We were fortunate. They would have come here looking for her, and exposed everything."

The Uchiha was proving his point. And, though Katsuro hated to admit it, he was right. Just her being in camp put them in grave danger. But the loss was still sharp. And Itachi was still scrutinizing him.

"Do you think she will expose you?" he said slowly. Sharp black spikes of hair framed his face, and dark shadows pooled under his eyes.

This wasn't an innocent question. It was a thinly-veiled threat.

Katsuro gave him a long, hard look.

"I would never reveal anything to someone from _that_ place," he said callously. "She knows nothing about me."

Though he felt so differently about the girl, it didn't change how he felt about her village. She was unknowingly putting him in danger. The best way to keep her safe — and him safe — was simply to let her go.

Itachi snorted under his breath. "Good," he said coldly.

He picked up a scroll off the desk, but Katsuro didn't move.

"Let's hope so, for both your sakes," he added, his tone quiet and deadly, before turning back to his work. Katsuro was effectively dismissed.

But Itachi made his point abundantly clear: If any information was leaked about Katsuro, she'd be the first to pay. And Katsuro would be next in line.

For now, though, she was safe. The young rogue turned and strode to the door.

He remembered her last look from the tree limb. That unmistakeable nod of her head. She must have known immediately it was Konoha. Then perhaps she was letting him know that she agreed to his desperate last request, a silent communication that if she made it to her village she'd never reveal anything about him.

Teammates, huh? It didn't quite work out the way he'd planned it, but he was definitely relying on her now. If she kept her word about protecting him, then both of them would be safe.

Katsuro pulled back the canvas flap and disappeared into the blinding, white daylight.

* * *

Over the rim of the water glass Sakura watched two more black-clad shinobi file into the small room. Just like the four scooting away from the table, these men also concealed their identities with eerie milk-white masks.

'Great. More ANBU,' she thought, dashing away the water from her lower lip. The new interrogation squad members sized her up, and she utilized her hard-won new battle skill. Fake it. She tipped up her chin, and refused to appear intimidated.

The room was a big grey box, and the four dark figures stood at attention like an unyielding row of kunai, making way for the two newcomers. There were no windows and a single door. Clearly it was reserved for criminals.

'But she was there only to be questioned,' she told herself wryly, folding her arms across her chest.

If she hadn't already crossed through Konoha's gates before she was whisked away, she would have thought she was anywhere else but her own village.

But the four ANBU were standing just inside the wall, and waiting just for her. She did not get so much as a look around at her beloved village. With a tight grip on each arm, they marched her directly to the forgotten room, tucked away on the ground floor of a forgettable building a few steps from the gate.

"Just some questions," one ANBU said tonelessly, pointing to a seat behind an old metal table.

In the middle of the table was a neatly stacked pile of papers. Sakura recognized her name on one of them. Walking around the table, she placed her hand on the back of the chair but did not sit.

Maybe there had been some misunderstanding about her abduction, she thought. They wouldn't be treating her this way it they knew who she'd seen.

She leaned forward and flattened her hand out on the table, fingers spread wide. She looked for the eyes behind the man's mask. This was vitally important information, she was sure of it.

"When I was abducted I saw—" Sakura began breathlessly.

"Sit down please, Haruno-san," the ANBU ordered, cutting her off.

"You don't understand—" she stammered.

"No, you don't understand," he said flatly. "We ask, you answer. Konoha protocol. Now sit down."

She gaped for a moment, then frowned, plunking her hands on her hips. He pointed to the seat. She could do nothing but agree.

The ANBU slipped out a clean sheet of paper from under the stack, took up a pencil and began verifying her personal information. Her life distilled to tick marks on a page. She wanted to throttle him. He was just outlining the facts of her ordeal when the two new ANBU came in.

The captain of the squad and his second in command strode across the room and snapped up the papers off the table. He scanned over the checklist of her life, the notes scribbled by the ANBU shinobi.

"That's as far as we have gotten sir," the ninja closest to her said.

"I see," the captain said gruffly.

"You were abducted weeks ago, saw none of your attackers, were forced to disguise as another nation's shinobi and participated in an ambush. And you might have been transported out of the country... Yet you can give us no information about these ninjas?" He shook the sheaf of papers as he spoke. Cold, black eyes peered at her from behind the expressionless mask. His disbelief was evident.

Sakura shook her head slowly from side to side. She couldn't believe this was happening to her. That she would survive all that, just to be treated like a criminal once she returned home.

The leader made a dissatisfied sound and went back to studying the paper.

"No other discerning features? Hair color, eyes?"

"No," Sakura said. "Nothing more than I've already told you. Just brown hair, brown eyes."

"Age?" he fired back without looking up.

Sakura swallowed dryly.

"The group who carried out the ambush looked to be in their late 20s, if not older," she said with a small cough.

It wasn't a complete lie. The rest of the group was older than her. And _he_ had tried to prevent the ambush. She hoped she didn't look as guilty as she felt.

But the brusque captain took no notice. He continued to pour over her file.

Sakura had not forgotten Katsuro's request to conceal his identity, to 'protect him' too. He had gone to such great lengths to keep her safe, it was the least she could do for him.

But there was another reason she hid her connection to the young rogue. She was ashamed of herself.

If she were to confess to this battle-hardened man in front of her that she had help, from a boy...that they shared meals and fought together, that she slept next to him and even held his hand, then they would laugh her right out of the room.

While her sensei and teammates had put their lives on the line searching for her, she had been ensconced in the temple in relative safety. After the first few days, anyway.

Freed from confinements, laughing and joking with her captor, the kunoichi's days were spent exploring the ruins or sparring. Nights were spent in conversation.

Sakura knew she'd never truly given up on Konoha finding her, but recounting the bare facts of her time in captivity painted a very different picture. It sounded like she was on vacation.

She changed her mind: If they knew the truth they wouldn't just laugh at her, they'd throw her in jail for treachery.

The door swung open suddenly, throwing a shaft of light across the room. A tall figure with a long coat stood silhouetted for a moment.

"Ibiki," Sakura thought with a sick feeling. Konoha's interrogation expert. If she didn't feel traitorous before, covering her tracks with the rogue nin, well she did now. Ibiki only came out for the really bad cases.

The captain grunted an acknowledgement and stepped out of the way to permit the man.

But the greeting from the doorway did not match the gravely voice she knew to be the chief interrogator's.

"Sakura," the man said gently. "We are so glad you're home."

She blinked. The man closed the door and the light adjusted in the room.

Coming towards her was her best friend's father, Inoichi. His blue eyes twinkled, and he smiled warmly at her.

"Me too," she returned a watery smile. Eyes bright with unshed tears, she exhaled shakily. She didn't realize how much she needed to see a friendly face.

He was tall and lean, and had the same sunny blonde hair as Ino, but his long black coat cut an imposing figure. Although he was an interrogator of sorts, he was no Ibiki. That scarred, hulking man normally tore the secrets out of enemies by any means necessary, and seemed to relish the task. Inoichi employed his clan's mind control technique for more delicate matters. Like keeping the victim alive.

"I just want to ask you a few things, ok?" he said gently. Sakura nodded.

"Were you aware of any genjutsus?"

"No," she said, but stopped herself. "Wait. Yes, in the beginning. And maybe another, but I'm not be sure." She stopped, feeling queasy just remembering it.

It must have showed.

"It's ok," Inoichi continued in the same low tone. "I'm just going to read your chakra right now, look for any disturbances."

Sakura frowned, but Inoichi reassured her, walking around the table to stand behind her. The rest of the ANBU relaxed their stances in his wake so they could unobtrusively monitor the interrogator's work. The captain continued to pour over the files undisturbed, but his second in command never took his eyes off the kunoichi.

"Every genjutsu leaves a trace. Like a fingerprint," Inoichi said. He placed his hands on her shoulders, and Sakura immediately started to feel more at ease. He continued in the same comforting tone. "And that trace is unique to each person. Me, you, everyone in this room. Each one is different."

His voice was lulling and Sakura let her shoulders drop under the pleasant weight of his warm hands.

"Now Sakura, I'm just going to touch the top of your head, see if I can find a ripple in your chakra, a fingerprint. Ok?"

Feeling relaxed, she nodded slowly, but the captain's coarse voice shattered the moment.

"I don't have time for this," he snarled and slapped the file back on the table. He turned to issue orders to his second. "Find out what she knows, make sure she's clean then let her go home. He works alone. If it was just a low-level genjutsu, then she probably never even saw him—"

"Him," Sakura said sharply. Six white masks turned in unison. Inoichi stilled his hands on her shoulders.

"You mean Itachi?" she snapped at the squad leader. It roiled her to think she would come through all this to be brushed off by a bullying ANBU. She would never have spoken out in the past, but his dismissive tone made her irrationally angry. Something in her had changed.

"I saw him," she continued, sitting forward and pulling away from Inoichi, "and I don't know where you get you're information from, but he doesn't work alone."

Everyone was silent, watching her. Waiting for something to give.

"Your challenging the work of the finest shinobi in the field," the captain literally growled at her, "information that our men and women have died for? And you think you know better?"

He snapped up the file and flipped over a paper. "A genin who couldn't even qualify for the chunin exam." He looked at her again. "You wouldn't have survived five minutes against Uchiha Itachi."

She didn't know if it was the chakra depletion or something else, but she wasn't backing down. She didn't care what her rank was anymore. She wasn't going to be treated like an academy child. She was a kunoichi, dammit.

"I saw him, I stayed in his camp, and I did everything I could to stay alive," she didn't remember raising her voice, but by the end she was yelling. Pink blotches were creeping up her throat. Her hand had somehow found it's way to the table, bracing her as if she might launch over it at any moment.

Behind the porcelain mask, the captain's eyes had gone wide with rage.

He was silent, but the others reacted as if she'd just ignited a bomb. The folder was crumpling in his fist. All their eyes were wide now. Only the second remained calm.

Stepping into the tense silence, he defused the situation.

"If I may," he said deferentially to the captain. The squad leader jerked an angry nod and let his second take over. He paced to the back of the room, disgusted.

"Explain, Haruno-san," he said firmly, but his voice was free of condescension. She had earned the right to speak freely. Five white masks looked down at her, waiting to hear what she had to say for herself. Sakura did not waste any time.

"They asked me to heal some of the lowest level ones, the thugs, so I did," she said. "But I made sure to inflict extra injuries so they would need more medical treatment."

No one spoke, though a few ANBU nodded slightly.

"At first, I only meant to keep myself alive. But the longer I was in the camp, the more I saw. So I memorized every detail, hoping I would make it home."

The ninjas were drawing closer, listening. Even Inoichi had pulled his hands away to give her room.

"Itachi Uchiha keeps a large camp of men who are sent out to commit small crimes, like the ambushes on merchants. They bring in money which goes to support—"

"A whole camp," the captain barked out sarcastically from the shadows across the room. "With a great deal of men?"

"Yes, and—" she started. He cut her off.

"That would be impossible to hide," he said meanly as he strode back across the room.

"No, they—" she said quickly. He cut her off again.

"And we've never come across any signs—" he said with a sneer, but Sakura wasn't having it anymore.

"Well you wouldn't," she snapped, cutting across his words. "He keeps the location hidden in a riverbed!"

That finally shocked him into silence. She could see him blinking behind his mask.

"I went to two camps, both beside rivers, both of which were flooded when not in use. The river is rerouted while they are encamped, then covered with water until they need it again. They can hide anywhere, plan attacks on any location, and disappear without a trace."

No one spoke, so she continued.

"The money he gets from the petty crimes goes to support his involvement in bigger things, but I don't know what. I assume it has to do with the Akatsuki," she said.

Eyes went wide all around at that statement.

"How did you know—" one ANBU started.

"The cloaks, black with a red cloud," she said. Several more nodded.

"I saw two others, named Deidara and Sasori. One makes bombs, and the other," she shuddered at the thought of him, "well, I'm not sure what he is."

"Two others," one ninja repeated slowly. "So does that mean..."

"Yes," Sakura nodded solemnly. "Itachi Uchiha is in Akatsuki, as well."

It was like a silent wave crashed over the room. The new information set them all on edge. Some tightened their fists, a few tugged distractedly at their armor. One moved to pace the length of the farthest wall, rubbing his chin under his mask.

But the captain stood stock still, hands on his hips, and looked at her.

Sakura looked back unflinchingly. She waited, but wasn't smug.

She had some idea any information she could share would be vital, just based on how secretive Itachi's group was, even with each other.

Yes, something in her had changed, she decided. She knew what she was now: a Konoha kunoichi. She didn't give up. Didn't matter if it was a rogue shinobi or a pissed off ANBU captain. She straightened her back, squared her shoulders.

If she had to sit through another round of badgering just to get her information across, then so be it. It couldn't be any worse than what she'd already lived through.

"Finish," the captain said hoarsely, jerking his head at Inoichi.

"Of course," Inoichi said with a smile in his voice. "Sakura, we just need to make sure there has been nothing placed on you."

"Placed on me?" Sakura echoed, looking back at him. She shook her head in confusion.

"Yes," Inoichi said. "We need to make sure there are no jutsus which could be activated from a distance, later on."

"Like...a spy?" Sakura stammered, horrified. Sasori's condescending remark about Itachi's "new contact" came immediately to mind. Sasori had meant her.

She looked around the room, a few ANBU looked over a little sheepishly. It all fell into place: the stern ninjas; the rough treatment at the gate; the interrogation room; the hateful captain acting as if everything she'd said was a lie.

That explained why they were treating her like a criminal. They thought she was one.

Inoichi replaced his hands on her shoulders and eased her back into the seat.

"Don't worry," he said gently. "I haven't detected anything."

Warmth spread immediately down into her limbs again, and Sakura felt as if a spring was unwinding inside.

"Itachi's genjutsu has a signature," Inoichi continued soothingly. "There are not many who can detect it, but I can. I've been tracking him for a long, long time."

"Almost done, Sakura. Now, I'm just going to touch the top of your head, see if I can detect a ripple in you chakra..."

He lifted his hands from her shoulders. In an instant she felt a prickling at her crown, her hairs stood on end, and then it was done.

The warm hands returned to her shoulders, and Inoichi continued, rendering his verdict in the same lulling tones. He gradually grew louder, speaking to everyone in the room.

"You did fine, Sakura. Just fine. There was a genjutsu a few weeks ago, just as you said. A strong one. There was also a more recent one, but it was very thin. Both by the same person. Whoever he is, he's not Itachi."

He looked around at the waiting ANBU. "She is clean," he announced. "The justsus were for information, but nothing was placed on her."

"You're ok, dear. You made it," he said softly, patting her shoulder. When he walked back around beside her, he was smiling kindly, blue eyes twinkling.

"Thank you," Sakura said, suddenly caught between wanting to laugh and cry. She had made it. It didn't seem real until that moment.

And everyone in the room around her seemed to exhale with his pronunciation as well.

"Proceed with the debriefing, if you feel up to it," he said, looking down at Sakura for acceptance. She gave him a grateful smile.

"But get something to eat," Inoichi rejoined. "You've had quite an ordeal, and I can tell feeding you was not their top priority." He must have read it through her weakened chakra, Sakura thought.

He took a step away from her, and would have continued to the door had the captain not moved directly into his path.

"Why would someone like you waste your time here, especially now?" the squad leader said in a low, accusing voice. His eyes narrowed to slits behind the porcelain mask. "What is it you're looking for?"

But Inoichi was unfazed by the pushy captain.

"Something that's above your classification level, obviously," he quipped.

Inoichi stepped around him, shoving a wad of money into his hand as he passed.

"Get her some food. My treat," Inoichi said into the captain's surprised face. Looking back over his shoulder, he shot Sakura a sympathetic look. "You're probably going to be here for a while." She just nodded gratefully.

Inoichi threw the door open and left without another look back.

The captain angrily shoved the money into the hand of the nearest ANBU.

"Here. Handle it," he snapped.

Standing in the sunlight just outside the building, Inoichi stopped to adjust his sleeve.

"Did you find what you were looking for," a low voice drifted up from beside the doorway.

One hand shoved in his pocket, one hand holding a book to his face, the man leaning against the wall didn't stir. He didn't even lift his eyes from the page as he spoke. He was a picture of laziness.

Inoichi busied himself with straightening his cuffs and lowered his voice too.

"No. Not this time," he said. The disappointment was clear. "But the closer we get to Itachi, the closer we get to..." his voice died out.

There was no need to continue. The man beside him felt it too.

"But I'm not giving up hope yet," Inoichi said, strengthening his resolve. Stopping to turn a page, the other man gave a quick nod of agreement.

"You have a remarkable student in there," Inoichi continued with a brighter tone. He flicked imaginary dust from his coat sleeves. "She's already gotten on the captain's bad side."

The man leaning against the wall snorted. "Good!" he said cheerfully.

The door burst open suddenly. Without another glance, Inoichi strode purposefully away, as if he'd never stopped.

But the ANBU who came out wasn't interested in Inoichi, he was looking for someone to run his errand.

"Hey you," he said to the man lazing beside the door. He shoved the wad of money over the front of the book and into the man's face.

"She wants some Ichiraku ramen. Go get us some, and you can keep...the...change..." The young man's eyes went painfully wide behind the porcelain mask. His voice died out completely.

The great Copy Ninja slowly raised his face from behind the book to give him a withering glare

"Sorry sir, I d-didn't realize it was you," he stumbled. He almost dropped all the money. "Ka-Kakashi-san, your student requested some ramen, and I thought you were..."

But Kakashi's face broke into a wide smile that no amount of concealments could hide.

"I'd be happy to get it for her," he said, taking the money. The ANBU breathed a sigh of relief.

* * *

The tone in the small room changed considerably after that.

"Please start from the beginning, Saskura-san," said one of the ANBU. The room was silent except for the whisper of paper on wood.

But another voice cut in before she could start. The captain. Again. Sakura decided she hated him.

"No, not from the beginning," he said gruffly. "I'm not interested in the ones who took you. I want to know about the people above them," he said, leaning over the table at her, eyes glistening from the deep recesses of the mask. "The Akatsuki."

Then that makes everything easier, Sakura thought wryly.

"Of course," she said with mock politeness.

Curling her hair behind her ears, Sakura recollected how it all began and mentally let Katsuro fall from the picture.

Recounting the ordeal, she surprised herself at how much she remembered.

"Too smart for your own good," Katsuro had joked. Maybe she was. But she had been observant, and the result was a wealth of information.

The ANBU were beyond pleased. It was more concrete information about than they'd been able to accrue in months. They did not press her for minor details, and Sakura was able to convey all the important points without a single mention of the young rogue.

If this was how Katsuro stayed one step ahead of his old village, she thought, then his strategy was a good one. No one cared about the thugs who carried everything out, just the big guy running the show.

Eventually they exhausted all their questions, and Sakura was dismissed. She tiredly made her way out of the room and down the dim hall to the exit.

She blinked once, slowly. A picture of the smiling brown-haired rogue flashed before her eyes.

She'd been able to keep her promise, she thought with a sigh. She was glad of that, she wanted him to stay safe.

But as she wrapped her hand around the doorknob, prepared to leave the ordeal behind her, she made a promise to herself. From now on, she would train harder than ever. She'd never be caught like that again. She'd never need to someone to bail her out, fix her mistakes. She'd rely on her own strength from now on.

Then, if anyone ever found out about Katsuro, her time spent with him, her promise, she could prove that she was a fierce kunoichi in her own right. They'd think she was helping him, instead of the other way round.

She twisted the handle and walked out into the bright, warm sunlight, letting the door swing shut behind her.

* * *

Chapter notes:

The fight scene was a long time coming, but I hope it was worth it. And I hope you like the bit about Inoichi, but especially my favorite part about Kakashi. Just love his character. This chapter is about parallels: Sasuke and Katsuro's inner struggles; Itachi and Kakashi differing styles; Katsuro and Sakura's interrogation experiences. The fight is drawn from the tone of the Part 1 fights. Lots of punches, desperate moves. Successful blows and painful miscalculations. Not a lot of crazy powerful jutsus yet, but they'll come. So much of the fight is a push and pull, parallel between the two. I've really tried to write to the yin and yang aspect of their relationship in the manga. Their moves, motives, blows balance each other out. They are both being manipulated by Itachi in this story, so they truly are opposite, inseparable sides of the same struggle.

There was so much packed in to this chapter, and the notes are crazy long. I'll post some here, then park the rest at my website (click homepage on bio). And don't worry about reading it there, it's not truly spoiler info. I allude to things that are coming up, but I don't give any of the juicy details away.

• _Katsuro sized up the kid who was pitted as his target, his rival, his obstacle to overcome. —_ Echoes Itachi's words to Sasuke that he existed as his obstacle. Just reinforces the rivalry relationship that will build between the Sasuke and Katsuro/Naruto.

• _The elder Uchiha was relentless too, but he was devoid of emotion. Never out of control. Not like this one, Katsuro thought. His movements were fast, but disappointingly predictable. —_ Katsuro declares this to himself, and his assumptions are immediately overturned. He is powerful, but still immature. Reference to Kakashi saying to Sasuke in the manga that there are ninjas younger than Sasuke that are more powerful than Kakashi (from the Zabuza arc). Basically, never underestimate any opponent. But Katsuro's smugness comes back to get him.

• _About the kyuubi's chakra: It wanted what he wanted. To rip, to kill, to destroy. All of it. —_ No chatty Kyuubi here. There is no pet imprisoned in some weird water-logged hallway two doors down from his spleen. The Kyuubi is simply a malicious power that is locked inside him. Literally, it is the demon's chakra, not a physical representation of the kyuubi itself. Katsuro/Naruto can manipulate the power, or it can manipulate him. Part of Katsuro/Naruto's growth will be to adequately control the demon chakra, as well as keep those at bay who would like to control him to get access to that power. Ultimately, he'll prevail. Of course!

• _Her name was a cool spot on the spiraling, malicious chakra. He clung to the moment of clarity. —_ Echo of the petals on the swirling whirlpool from the painting. Her presence in his life counterbalances that out-of-control moment. Helps him remember he is a separate entity from the demon chakra.

• _But Sasuke had launched at him in the same moment, looking as wild and blood-thirsty as he felt. Looking as if he wanted to kill him too. —_ Sasuke has felt the demon chakra and responded to it, bringing them to the same point. These two are tied together by things that are out of their control, yet they are bound to fight it out. Ultimately, they both have inner demons to fight. And Sasuke had no other motive than to fight him because he was a rogue, but in the end his motivation is from much deeper down. Reinforces rivalry and yin-yang theme.

• _Light from the fireball turned the river to gold. An enormous black boulder jutted out into the middle, snagging the light, and forcing the water to eddy and swirl loudly around it. —_ Working in the language used in the first chapter and the ambush chapter about the road being like a ribbon. Katsuro's looking for a way out, a path. Meant to be subtle, but it is intentional, bringing the language full circle.

• _Hands ground into tight fists at his sides, Katsuro glared black challengingly. His eyes were burnished red with the reflected light of the burning forest. Gray streams of smoke rose into the air from the back of his shirt, braiding together and forming menacing, unnatural tips behind him. —_ Obviously, it's an image of the kyuubi. Not truly, but just the ghost of one seen in the air around him.

• There are parallels between the two debriefings after the fight.

Itachi to Katsuro: _His anger at the perceived disobedience was nearly palpable. "Explain," he bit out._

ANBU to Sakura:_ "Explain, Haruno-san," he said firmly, but his voice was free of condescension. She had earned the right to speak freely. _

Itachi to Katsuro: _Itachi snorted under his breath. "Good," he said coldly. _

Kakashi to Inoichi: _The man leaning against the wall snorted. "Good!" he said cheerfully._

• _"I see," Itachi said, looking over the injuries again with a more clinical eye. Katsuro kept the flash of anger in check. It was clear Itachi was only using him to measure Sasuke's strength._ — Twist on Itachi using the Uchihas, then Sasuke, as a measure of his ability.

• _Katsuro pulled back the canvas flap and disappeared into the blinding, white daylight._ — White color cue, opened with the blinding flurry of blossoms in Katsuro's genjutsu on Sakura, is closed with him disappearing into the white daylight. White is the color cue for an emotional arc between the two main characters. Katsuro is also disappearing back into the world form whence he came, one that we still know little about. Sakura, however walks into the warm sunlight and into the village that the reader is familiar with. Both leave you with different feelings.

• _Just like the four scooting away from the table, these men also concealed their identities with eerie milk-white masks. —_ The masks are creepy. Hands down. But since I'm not identifying any of them, I decided to leave off about the animal qualities of the masks, instead focusing on the intimidation that a bunch of ninjas wearing expressionless animal faces made of porcelain would generate.

• I'm writing about the Akatsuki as a little bit open secret, a little bit myth among everyone else but ANBU. Intensely secretive, even from each other. So Sakura's specifics would prove very valuable. Although we don't ever see in the manga when it's revealed that Itachi has joined forces with the baddest group in the land, it must have been pretty surprising for the people who knew him before, when he was an upstanding shinobi. I think it might be like Sakura and Naruto's shocked reaction to learning that Sasuke was in the group, but a little less emotional. So I decided to write Sakura's speech as a shocking confirmation for the ANBU.

* * *

Thanks so much for the great reviews, the faves, alerts and C2s! It means a lot! And thanks again for the reviews about Itachi. I've reread a lot of the manga trying to get a better sense of his character, and I've come to the conclusion that he's one of the most outwardly cruel ninjas in the series. I'm curious to see if the ends will justify his means. Anyway, I've worked hard to make him a cold, mean character. I'm glad it's coming through

To answer a couple reviews, there are quite a few more twists and turns. So lots more chapters, not a crazy amount though. Maybe 30 chapters altogether, could be a little more. I plan on bringing Naruto and Sakura to young adulthood, 18-20s. Two training timeskips (one very soon) to move things along a bit.

KungFu, thanks for the great review. Seriously. We're of the same mind about Itachi. As for the summary, right now I'll keep it the same. I have to cover a lot in a tiny space, and I wrestled with other versions, but I still think it hits the biggest points. Don't worry, I've already written almost all of the Naruto chapters. It will get there, I promise. Maybe I'll post a longer summary in the profile, that way a little more info is out there. :)

watchingtherain, you're exactly right. Itachi is telling Katsuro that Konoha nins are threats, when he's the biggest one. He's totally manipulating Katsuro, unfortunately.

ia3, animemistress, and celious, thanks so much, as well as PiperJulian, Moldock, NarutoRocks, Jitchoo, Eluviete, Cerridwen, LinkOOT, Kimiss, and all the rest. thank you, thank you.


	16. Reckoning

Chapter 16 - Reckoning

_In the depth of winter, I finally learned that within me there lay an invincible summer. – Albert Camus_

She didn't recognize it the first time she saw it. Nor the second time.

It was on the third time she picked her way down the little side street — the shortcut home, the one she had walked down all her life, the one that was only recognizable now by it's oddly-shaped pavers peeking out from under the piles of rubble — that she realized what she was looking at.

Beneath the head-high jumbles of stone and twisted metal, broken roof tiles and smashed dishes, spilled the branches of an old tree. It sprawled grotesquely through the debris, jutting out all over as if an enormous hand had tried to claw it's way out.

Sakura pinched her lips together in a thin line and forced down the fresh heartache.

The scenes of destruction in her village were nothing new, she had been clearing it away for weeks now. This should be no different, she told herself. But she couldn't bring herself to feel it.

This little spot had been hers. She'd even shared it with Katsuro. The little park where she would study. The forgettable square of grass with it's lone shade tree, now all but buried by the buildings that once surrounded it. The brutal attack on Konoha had nearly erased the once-tidy lane.

She had always loved the narrow, winding path, the way the buildings were crowded a little too closely along it, casting the street in perpetual shade. It was cool and tranquil even on the hottest days. In the middle of the lane, in an empty hole where a building once stood, there was instead the little park. The sun streamed lazily down through the wide branches, the grass was soft and inviting. In her mind, it always glittered like a jewel as she rounded the dark bend in the road, beckoning to her whether she was coming or going.

She blinked. The image was gone. The street was gone. At her feet were the shattered remains of the homes and shops, crushed under enormous chunks of Konoha's wall.

She followed the line of debris back to the wall, which loomed over the whole scene without obstruction. The breach there had been massive, flattening row upon row of buildings. Repairs to the fortification were begun immediately, but even in the shadow of early evening the the huge gap filled in with pale stones stood out like a scar against the older, darker ones.

Without thinking, she wrapped her hand around the inside of her elbow, covering the arc of puckered skin that would forever mark her too.

Since her return, Sakura had thrown herself into the reconstruction efforts, dividing her time between the hospital and debris-clearing assignments with her team. Those were what amounted to D-rank missions in the aftermath. But even with all their hard work, with everyone who was left pitching in, there were still little pockets like this one that had yet to be tackled.

Sakura drew her hand away from her arm to wipe the sweat from her forehead. The smell of burning debris hung in the warm, stilted air. An ever-present reminder of the destruction. The stench snaked it's way into the buildings that were left, clung to clothes and hair. A long grey plume from a burn pile scarred the hazy sunset. Mild Konoha had turned into a battlefield, and the sky took on the colors of a wound.

The breeze shifted momentarily, and acrid smoke drifted her way, burning her eyes until it shifted again. Dead, brown leaves rattled against each other, still clinging to the fallen tree.

Sakura sometimes wondered if she was simply in a nightmare or an unending genjutsu. Her mouth tugged into a frown. She sunk her hands down onto her hips, swallowed against the sudden tightness at her throat and toed a few chunks of rubble half-heartedly with her foot. As if not touching the rocks with her hands would make it less painful.

A large block fell to the side, revealing a slip of yellow. Sakura froze. The color was so bright, so out-of-place in the dark hollow created by the larger rocks. Her mind immediately leapt to the worst possible scenario: an unaccounted-for villager.

Sakura carefully leaned the rocks back to further inspect it, but was instantly flooded with relief.

"Flowers," she said with a small laugh.

As the kunoichi reached down and dislodged the largest chunk, her fingers brushed the soft green grass of the old plot. She remembered now, wildflowers had always grown in clumps along the edge of it.

Hastily clearing the rest of the debris away, she stepped back to survey the last remnant of the park. The petals wavered gently in her wake.

Hands back on her hips, lips pinched in a tighter frown, Sakura was not as comforted as she expected to be. In fact, she found herself growing irrationally angry.

The flowers just nodded their ridiculously bright heads in spite of the wreckage lapping all around them. As if they were laughing at the destruction. As if the entire world they lived in, that safe square of grass hadn't just been obliterated, never to return. The tree that gave it's shade freely was gone; the flowers would perish in the blaze of full sun.

She huffed out a breath. Part of her felt like ripping the damn things out, making the destruction complete. But another, smaller voice told her to let it go. If they'd made it this long, let them live. Just go home.

She relented to reason. It didn't matter what she wanted to do to them anyway, she told herself. She was exhausted. This was just one more heartbreak. Something else that was gone, never to return.

Sakura decided she wouldn't take the shortcut again. Without another glance, she turned away and wearily picked her way back over the debris towards the village. Unfortunately, taking the long way home gave her too much time to think.

After the abduction, she had tried to slip back into her old life, tried to restore herself as she cleared away the shattered pieces of her village. Told herself she was safe, she was protected, she was home. But every day was harder and harder.

The destruction of her favorite park was nothing compared to the shock of seeing the village her first day home.

She learned of the attack during her interrogation, but she discounted it at first.

"There are some changes in the village that you should be aware of," one ANBU said. She nodded dutifully.

"Another man, former Akatsuki, and former Konoha shinobi before that, returned to seek revenge on the village. He was stopped, but there was significant damage done, many lives lost," the man paused. "One of those was the Hokage."

Sakura simply gaped. She couldn't believe what she was hearing. It couldn't be true.

"The man, named Orochimaru, escaped, but he sustained massive injuries," another ANBU cut in. "Teams are out to hunt him down and determine the location of the woman appointed as the new Hokage. After your recovery, we expect you to help out as best as you can. We have suffered great casualties to our shinobis. As soon as your able, you will need to help rebuild."

"Of course," she nodded emphatically, eyes wide.

At the time she couldn't fully comprehend what he meant. But she knew now.

While they had been off on their "mission," the forced team-building and punishment all wrapped into one, Konoha had been attacked. Somewhere in time, her abduction and the destruction of her village overlapped.

And it turned out Sasuke and Sai had searched for her, for the better part of two days, before trekking home alone to get their sensei. Not that she learned any of that from her teammates. They had barely spoken since her return. Kakashi was the one to fill in all those details.

Their reticent sensei had taken to checking up on them almost daily, dropping by, casually chatting about the day's assignment. She suspected that her team's lack of camaraderie must be so blatant that even he couldn't ignore it.

Sasuke and Sai never gave him more than a one-word response. Sakura spoke only out of courtesy.

In reality, she was desperate to talk to her sensei. She had questions that only he could answer. But she never seemed to catch him alone. She had begun to wonder if it was intentional.

If he had been avoiding a conversation with her, hoping everything would just work itself out, then it was Kakashi's misfortune to stop one day while the two others were gone. Sakura didn't waste the opportunity.

"Kakashi-sensei, I want to ask...I need to know a few things," Sakura said before he could retreat. He smiled, but it struck her as more of a grimace. She frowned. That confirmed it: Apparently he didn't care whether they got along, just that they got the mission done.

"Did they look for me? At all?" The rest of the words died in her throat. There was so much she needed to know, and she was hoping he would fill in the blank spaces. But Kakashi looked horrified. She pushed on.

"Or did they— did they leave right away to come back?" Unexpected tears burned her eyes, but she blinked them away. Giving voice to her fears hurt more than she thought it would, but she refused to cry.

"No, of course not," Kakashi said, astonished. "I should hope I'd taught them that much. But if you believed your teammates would have abandoned you, then I've failed you as a sensei," he said quietly. She was about to disagree, be he continued.

"They searched for two days. There was simply no trace—" He stopped suddenly and shook his head. The studied nonchalance was gone. For the first time, Sakura saw a trace of pain.

Maybe she was wrong. Maybe it wasn't reticence as much as it was something else, like guilt. She forgave him for not stopping to talk, for not knowing how to put the right words together. She could see now that he had been deeply concerned.

"When they came back to the village, without you, they returned to a battlefield," he said, unable to meet her eye. He scanned the debris field that used to be residences. "There was no way I could go. And there was no one else to go either. We lost so many nins, and the Sandaime," he paused, then looked back to her. "I could only hope that wherever you were, you were safer there than in the village."

Sakura blew out a shaky breath. Now she knew for certain. She hadn't been abandoned. There was more she wanted to say, more she wanted to know, but she just couldn't continue. Her memories of that fear were still sharp. She pushed it away, shifting her focus to the village.

"And this," she flung out a hand at the destruction. "Just a single man did this? Can one person be that powerful?"

"Yes," Kakashi said with a grim laugh. He slung his hands loosely in his pockets. This was conversation he was more comfortable with. "Yes. There are people more powerful than you and I can imagine. And more powerful than the one who did this. Orochimaru summoned huge snakes to do most of this damage. But there are others in this world who have even more power trapped inside, at their ready disposal. Some of them good, some bad. And we have to be vigilant against the ones that would hurt us."

Kakashi nodded to Sasuke and Sai as they approached. They silently returned to work.

"But why?" Sakura continued, curling her hair behind her ears. "Why would this Orochimaru attack his own village? What did he want?"

"We don't really know. Vengeance against the Sandaime, his sensei, was certainly a motive. If he was looking for someone else," Kakashi flicked a glance at Sasuke, who stilled his hands on the shovel, "then he didn't fulfill that goal." Kakashi glanced back at her with a smile.

"In that he was thwarted," he said. "And we have you to thank for it. You managed to get your team out of the village," he said, chuckling at the irony.

Sakura smiled but saw no humor in it. Sasuke pitched the shovel down onto the debris pile and left. Kakashi was pulled away by another shinobi with a request, and she silently returned to her work.

That had been days ago, but she still didn't feel better. Maybe Kakashi's explanation wasn't the answer she needed.

Sakura stood in the middle of the road and tiredly scrubbed her hands over her face. Her thoughts had tripped and slid on the long walk home. And now she stood there, in the dark, stomach in a knot, certain that going home wasn't the answer for her either.

She didn't want to put on a smile for her parents, be the dutiful daughter, tell them she was ok, that the village was safe. Lie.

The civilian life she used to live may as well have been toppled under with the rest of the buildings. Her parents just wanted to hear that soon everything would be repaired, and life would go on as it had before. She didn't have the heart to tell them that it would never be the same.

On one side of her, lights from residences spilled onto the street, illuminating the path to her home. On the other side, the road disappeared into darkness. Out there was the forest, the training grounds, the sparring field. She knew there had been heavy damages there, but it was blessedly empty. Clearing those grounds wouldn't come until after the village proper was rebuilt.

She looked at the quiet, bending road and breathed in it's stillness. It felt like a solace, to think of a place where you could fight back. Where blood was spilled, yet you still had a chance. Without another thought she turned toward the darkening street.

That night she simply wandered around, surveyed the damage, enjoyed the solitude. But the next night she thought that a little bit of training might do her good. At least it would give her thoughts somewhere to land. Each night after that it was routine. Training until she was bone tired. Too tired to think, too tired to answer questions. She didn't feel better, but she was getting stronger. At least that was something.

It was also a relief from the long days with her teammates.

Though Kakashi's assurance that she wasn't abandoned smoothed over some things, each day seemed to get harder than the last. Sai was silent, automated, efficient in his actions. Her loss and recovery had been duly noted, and now it was back to business as usual. Sasuke, however, was different.

He actually seemed mad at her. Or angry that she'd returned. If what Kakashi said was true, if they had searched for her, then she knew she ought to be grateful. At least a little bit. But she couldn't bring herself to speak to him. Which seemed to suit him just as well — he hadn't made eye contact with her in weeks.

But there were others who were not so callous. Along with Kakashi's daily visits, Sakura managed to see more friendly faces than she had in ages. Her classmates all stopped from time to time with a kind word or smile. As did many of Kakashi's compatriots. They would all pass with a nod or a knowing look.

Sakura was relieved to discover that only a small circle knew about her abduction. In the chaotic aftermath of the attack, her absence from Team 7 wasn't even noticed. She should have been able to slip back into her old life with relative ease.

But that was the trouble: She couldn't find her old life. The safety was gone, the illusion of protection had evaporated.

She could see the tension in Kakashi's face sometimes as he spoke. Occasionally she would catch a look of sympathy from one of the other senseis. She would smile, then they would smile, and she would return to her work. But the veil had been lifted.

Had they survived something unspeakable? Had they lost someone who didn't return? Did they think of it when they looked at her? She told herself no, of course not, but she couldn't shake that feeling no matter how hard she tried.

Day after day, she sifted through the broken pieces of her village, trying to salvage wood, stone, anything that could be used to rebuild. But her thoughts were treacherous. She didn't think it would ever be restored. Not for her, anyway. She couldn't go back to her life before. And she wasn't sure how to go on.

Grit biting into her knees, Sakura was just leaning forward to dislodge a stubborn chunk of stone when a shadow stretched out over her particular corner of the debris pile. She sat back on her heels, blocked the sun with a hand and squinted up into the grinning face of her sensei.

"How's it coming?" Kakashi said, rocking lightly onto the balls of his feet. Both wrists were carelessly propped on his hips so that his hands folded behind his back, out of sight.

Sakura just hitched up a shoulder in a half-hearted shrug. Her other teammates only acknowledged their sensei with a glance.

"That bad?" he said cheerfully. He squatted down beside her, dropping one arm to his knee. The other hand he kept tucked away behind his waist.

"What's the point? Rebuilding this wall. Someone else will just tear it down again. And these things are gone forever. These people—" She shook her head and shut her eyes. She couldn't go on.

But Kakashi understood. She wasn't talking about rebuilding a wall, she was talking about rebuilding her life. It was territory he knew well.

"Aaah," he said.

He was silent overly long. Sakura opened her eyes.

Head tipped up and elbow sunk into his knee, Kakashi scratched his chin, furrowed his brow, and looked as if he was pondering something deep to impart to his student.

"We rebuild because we are here to..." He started strong, but his voice thinned. He sighed. But another burst of inspiration had him raising his arm toward the rubble.

"The wall is not a single piece, it is many rocks..." His arm hung in mid-air, and the sentence died on his lips.

Sakura's eyebrows hitched up. Kakashi caught her skeptical look. He cleared his throat and pushed ahead.

"Each generation must surpass the next, and for us that means..." He stopped this time with his hand dramatically splayed on his chest. But it was clear he didn't know what he meant.

"Please stop," Sakura said kindly. "Sensei," she added with a smile.

He offered a lopsided grin and dropped his forearm lazily back across his knee.

"Fighting is hard," he nodded. "But I think living through the aftermath is harder." He glanced down at Sasuke, who had also stopped his work to listen. "So we do whatever it takes to survive, in the battle and afterwards. We don't give up."

Sakura's mouth fell open at Kakashi's gem of wisdom. He surveyed the team wistfully for moment, his gaze falling to each one of them, but then in a blink his seriousness was gone, replaced with a wide grin.

"Dango?" he chirped, whipping out three skewers of dumplings he had kept hidden behind his back.

Sakura eyes were wide with astonishment. She silently accepted one out of reflex, then watched mystified as he walked to her other teammates and offered one to them as well.

As it was, she barely registered the sticky sweetness of the dumplings.

"Do what you have to do to get out of it. Just survive," Katsuro's voice echoed in her head.

Maybe that didn't just apply to the battlefield, she thought as she watched Kakashi walk away. He stopped to speak to a few others, smiling briefly, nodding. One hand slung casually in his pocket. She silently pitched the dango stick onto the burn pile.

That man had seen more hardship, more warfare, more bloodshed, than she could ever imagine. And yet he could still get up in the morning. Walk around. Smile.

And so could Katsuro, for that matter. The rogue still kept some goodness in the midst of such a rough life.

Survive. Just live. Make it out. It doesn't matter how. She licked the remaining sweetness from her lips, truly tasting it for the first time.

She couldn't go back to her old life, but maybe that was ok. Wasn't there always something gained with the pain? She felt more capable, more sure of herself. She had even stood up to the bullying ANBU. That was something she wouldn't have done before. And she knew what friendship was. She'd been able to make that connection.

Sakura reached out to pry loose the stuck rock, when the scar on her arm caught her eye.

'Katsuro,' she thought with a small sigh. Her fingers traced the crescent of pink skin that permanently marked the inside of her forearm. She truly hated that scar, and now she was stuck with it.

She didn't need a visual reminder of that painful time. But the young rogue had made the difference. He helped her survive, made her stronger.

She ran her fingers over the mark again. Maybe she didn't have to hate it. She didn't think she'd ever like it, but maybe she could will it into being a reminder of strength. It would be the only good thing she brought away from that experience. Well, beside her unexpected friendship with him, but that was something she could never—

"What happened to your arm," Sasuke's gruff voice cut across her thoughts. He jerked his head toward her arm and waited for her answer.

Sakura flattened her palm over the scar and looked up at him with wide eyes. When had he gotten so close to her? Had she been speaking out loud, revealed something?

"Nothing!" she said too quickly.

Sasuke narrowed his eyes. He had been working to free a building timber from beneath the pile of rubble and wound up beside her. He let the beam sag in his grasp and tipped his head slightly for better look at the mark.

"Nothing I want to talk about," she stammered. She turned her back to him, focusing all her attention on the stubborn rock. Behind her, Sasuke silently dislodged the timber and carried it off to the salvage pile.

Though he was often close by, he did not speak to her again.

It was hours later before she looked back up, and this time to see a few ANBU approaching. Sakura scanned down the edge of the debris past Sasuke, to where Sai stood expectantly. The ANBU stopped next to him, speaking in low tones.

Sakura studied the masked shinobi. She wondered if one of them may have interrogated her, but the distraction was pointless, she decided. She didn't remember any of them. And she didn't want to. Sai nodded a few times to the men, and Sakura bent back to her work.

Footsteps soon ground to a halt behind her.

"Sakura-san, you are recovering well?" a voice called over her shoulder. It was more statement than question.

Apparently one of the ANBU did know her.

"Yes," she said neutrally, looking back at the three inscrutable ninjas. She had a suspicion they still saw her as a traitor. Or at least a threat. There was no way to tell with those damn masks.

"And you are still training in the evenings?"

Sakura cleared her throat. Sasuke looked sharply at her. She hadn't told anyone that she was using the mess of the old sparring field for training. She should've known ANBU would take notice.

"Yes," she said stubbornly, refusing to meet their gaze. If they wanted her to quit then they could damn well order her to stop. Otherwise they could just go to—

"That area is unsecured," the man stated. Sakura's face snapped into a frown, but the ninja continued. "The captain has given express permission for you to train at the ANBU grounds until the sparring field is repaired."

Sakura was completely surprised. "Th-Thanks," she uttered. The ANBU nodded curtly and was gone.

Sakura sat back on her heels, stunned. Beside her, Sasuke attacked the debris pile with renewed vigor, his shovel chinking the rocks loudly with each scrape.

But Sakura paid no heed. She could only guess which captain the ANBU was referrering to. She only knew one, and he had been a thorn in her side during the interrogation. It was beyond her why he would offer the use of their grounds. Just for her. It wasn't a compliment, more like an order. Maybe they wanted to monitor her, but she shook her head at the thought. No, there were easier ways to do that.

She continued working in silence, well into the evening. There was simply no resolving why they would offer her that privilege after the hard time they gave her. But ultimately, she didn't have a choice. If she wanted to keep training, she'd have to do it there. She sat back and brushed the dirt from her sore hands. But she wouldn't train tonight. The extra-long day and her unsettled thoughts left her exhausted. For the first time since she'd returned, she really just wanted to go home and rest.

Standing slowly, stretching her back and flicking bits of gravel from her knees, she was surprised to see Sasuke was also still there. Sai had been called away hours before. Seeing her, Sasuke swiftly finished and threw his shovel onto the salvaged rock pile, exuding more energy than she felt.

She turned to go, and was surprised again when he fell into step beside her. Outwardly they looked the part of teammates returning from their assignment, but Sakura knew it couldn't be farther from the truth.

She said nothing, and tiredly walked toward her home, reminding herself not to take the shortcut. Sasuke would veer off soon enough.

But he didn't.

She said nothing as he passed the road to his apartment and continued on with her. He could be going anywhere in the village, she told herself. But when they entered a long stretch of road, narrow and dimly lit, Sakura felt something was amiss.

This particular stretch of road was another reason she preferred the shortcut. It wasn't destroyed, but had been evacuated for the duration of the reconstruction. She hated the feeling of emptiness around her. Tonight was no different, even with addition of a companion.

She cut a glance at Sasuke in the half-light. His face was tight, angry. She narrowed her eyes. Something was wrong here.

As if on cue, Sasuke's voice ricocheted off the buildings.

"So ANBU really think you're something, huh?"

Sakura stopped, blinking at him in the darkness. He walked a few paces ahead before he stopped too.

"But we know different don't we?" He turned back slowly to face her.

"I heard what you said, out there, the night I found you. I heard you begging that guy to kill you, to 'get it over with.' And ANBU thinks you're a hero," he finished bitterly.

Sakura's cheeks were enflamed. But Sasuke was cool and smug. He assumed her silence meant that he was right. He tipped his head and shot her an arrogant smirk.

"We're all alone out here," he said with false friendliness, spreading his fingers toward an empty building. "So why don't you tell me the truth about what happened."

But Sakura saw through him. It was as if she'd never really seen him before. He was no teammate. She knew what that bond was, and no one could ever take that away.

She put her hands on her hips and shook her head. She didn't care if he was a prodigy, the only surviving member of his clan. She wanted to put him in his place.

"I heard you actually looked for me," she said with a wry smile. "I was surprised. When no one came for me, day after day, I began to think maybe you hadn't told anyone. That you had left me out there to die."

His arrogant expression slipped. Her response wasn't what he expected. But she was just getting started.

"I know exactly what you think of me. You've always made that perfectly clear. That I've never been good enough to be on your team," she bit out.

"Well let me correct you," she said, jabbing the air with her finger. "When I sat in front of your brother and he threatened me within an inch of my life to give up information about you, I gave him none. I was your teammate, and I did not give you up. It is you who have let me down."

Her voice was unfamiliar and hard. She almost felt like she was channeling Katsuro. It felt good.

Sasuke's face was comically slack.

"You have talents that most ninjas will never have, but you know nothing of bonds or of teamwork...or how to protect those who are depending on you."

At that his expression darkened, but Sakura no longer cared. She found she was burning for a fight.

"Itachi at least knows that much, it's why he's so successful in his little empire. If you really do want to defeat him, you'll have to be as strong as he is. And right, now you're not," she said. Then, just to provoke him, she added archly, "Itachi knows that, too."

Sasuke's face twisted with rage. "Shut up!" he roared, coming right for her.

He barreled at her openly, hands spread, ready to grab her shoulders, arms, anything he could reach just to shut her up. Blind rage had wiped out any strategic move he might have made. And he wasn't suspecting any response from her at all.

Without thinking she dropped into her fighting stance, drawing on the strength from all those nights of training. Katsuro's encouragements rang in her ears. She curled her fingers into tight fists. Chakra slipped effortlessly over her knuckles. They were warm and glowed faintly. The kunoichi turned her body to minimize his access, and braced for whatever he was going to deliver.

The rest just happened. He caught the first thing he could reach, her arm, and wrenched it horribly in an ill-conceived attempt to fling her down the street. But he'd left himself wide open.

Sakura ignored the pain and used the momentum to wield her fist like a hammer. She drove it straight up into Sasuke's chin.

Teeth cracked loudly as his jaw slammed shut. Head blown back, he released her out of reflexes. He staggered a few steps backwards, fighting disorientation.

Sakura cringed from the pain but refused to cry out. Watching him cautiously, she returned to her stance, twisted her limp arm away, and waited. She had executed Katsuro's self defense move perfectly.

Sasuke took another stabilizing step, clutching his chin. A thin trickle of blood seeped from the corner of his mouth. He cut her a vicious glare.

Sakura narrowed her eyes in return, making a tight fist with her good hand. Almost daring him to come at her again. She didn't care about the pain, she had a point to prove. Things had changed. _She_ had changed.

She wasn't taking shit from him ever again.

A sudden push of wind and crunch of gravel near Sakura startled them both. In front of her Kakashi stepped out of a swirl of leaves.

He frowned deeply, looking from one student to the other, then nodded a dismissal toward the top of a building. Sakura glanced up. Silhouetted on the roofline were a few ANBU, watching them closely. This area was heavily patrolled, she remembered. They would have alerted their sensei immediately.

Kakashi looked over Sasuke, who was still holding his chin, then back to Sakura with her curled up arm. He shook his head incredulously.

"What _are_ you two doing?"

"We were working on our teamwork," Sakura said humorlessly. She tipped her head and waited for Sasuke's response. He just scowled at her.

Kakashi shook his head again. He was glad he arrived when he did. He was sure one of his students would be in the hospital if he hadn't come, although now he wasn't sure which one.

Sasuke was rubbing his chin, watching her. He was obviously surprised at her attack. Kakashi was too.

'That might be just what Sasuke needs,' he thought.

He looked to Sakura again, cradling her hurt arm but showing no other signs of giving even an inch.

'Something about her is different,' Kakashi decided. 'Good.'

But they really should use their energy to fight enemies, not each other, he thought, lifting an eyebrow. He put on his sternest look and cleared his throat.

"Both of you get to the med nin, now," he ordered in a cold voice. The one he reserved for criminals. "I won't have my students killing each other."

Sakura nodded resignedly and fell into step next to Kakashi. They both walked up the road toward Sasuke, in the direction of the hospital. Sakura tipped her chin up and refused to look at the raven-haired nin.

Eyes dark, unreadable, Sasuke never moved as they approached. Never even looked at them.

Kakashi began to wonder if he was going to yield, follow the command and go with them to the hospital. But he could wait it out. Give him the chance to choose.

They walked around him, and continued a little ways up the road before Kakashi stopped and looked back at his other student. Sakura stopped, but didn't turn.

Sasuke's shoulders rose and fell with a deep breath. He slowly turned around and took a step in their direction.

Satisfied, Kakashi started again, giving the dark shinobi some space behind them. Sasuke didn't have to be happy, but he did have to obey.

"Congratulations are in order, I think," Kakashi said softly to Sakura once they'd resumed. "I heard that ANBU were quite impressed with you."

Her shoulders sagged slightly. She shrugged, looking away from him. It was clear she'd rather not talk about it. But Kakashi waited patiently for her answer.

"I just did what I could out there. When I thought I might be able to stay alive, then I decided to try to bring back information as well," she said finally, thinking he was asking about the interrogation.

"And you've been training at night?" Kakashi peered at her, clearing up her misunderstanding.

"Oh," she said softly.

"Um, yeah," she admitted. "Just a little bit."

"Well your doing a good job," he said. "Holding together after the kind of thing you've been through is hard, even for seasoned shinobi."

From behind them, Sasuke snorted loudly in objection. Sakura frowned, threw her shoulders back and jutted her chin out angrily.

'Interesting,' he thought, slanting another glance at the kunoichi. But Kakashi let the matter drop and kept on walking as if he hadn't even noticed his student's dissension.

After all, he already had his own suspicions that there was more to her story. Only time would tell what had happened out there.

It really was a miracle she'd come home at all.

* * *

Sakura stopped in the light of the hospital doorway, rubbing a finger under the strap of the sling where it cut into her shoulder. Comfortably adjusted, she set off from the building with a greater sense of purpose than she'd had in weeks.

Sakura padded softly down the lit road, away from the hospital, and headed straight for the darkness, straight for her old shortcut.

Rubbing the strap again, she inched it down her shoulder. The thin sling was more a reminder not to move her hurt arm than an actual remedy. Neither she nor Sasuke had serious injuries. He was treated and released without a word. She didn't care.

Ahead of her in the dim light of the reconstruction zone, odd-shaped pavers were coming into view. A lot of the destruction had already been removed. A lot more than she expected. Even the shortcut was recognizable again as a street, rather than just a few patches of pattern under piles and piles of stone.

She paced herself to the old park, afraid she might be too late. But it was still there, and mostly untouched. The little flowers bloomed happily beside a mountain of wreckage. The huge old tree still sprawled across the ground. And debris still covered most of the plot.

But it wouldn't be that way for long. All around her were signs of progress. The street and building pads were nearly cleared. Tools and shovels were piled in the road, ready for the next day's work. Even the faint smell of cooked food was threading through the smoky air. Lane by lane, the area was returning to life.

Sakura couldn't help but notice the blades of axes glinting up from among the tools. It was a sad reminder that there would be no more life for the tree or her little park.

She pushed away the heartache and focused on her task.

Poking through the tools with her good hand, Sakura found a sturdy trowel. She sank it in half-moons around the clump of flowers, and easily pried both the plant and it's earthen rootball from the ground. But Sakura frowned as she looked for something adequate to transport it with. Everything around her was broken. She dropped her gaze to her one free hand and sighed. She'd manage it, somehow.

Finished with her job, she walked back toward home in contented silence. Tomorrow, while someone was taking apart the tree and turning under the grass, readying the plot for a new store or a house, she would find another park to plant the flowers in.

Sakura adjusted the hurt arm folded over her stomach, reminding herself to keep it still. In the crook of her good arm, bright yellow flowers nodded from the safe transport of the sling.

* * *

**Author notes:**

Next chapter: Lots happening, plus time skip. Katsuro, Gaara, Tsunade and Katsuro. And hopefully back to a little more regular posting schedule. Summary in the profile section, and extended notes on the website, as well as some background notes from Chapter 15. Finding Sakura from the Konoha pov. Anyway, please read and review!

* * *

**Chapter notes:**

This chapter is definitely transitional. The theme is taking the good thing that is left over, pulling it from the wreckage, dusting it off and claiming it as your own. Being able to see the good in the bad: The little flowers, the dango, her experience with Katsuro, her scar as a memento of survival.

• This chapter concludes a few loose threads. The story about the park in her recollection was so the reader would understand her feeling of loss when she returned. Katsuro teaching her to punch like that was specifically for her to knock the hell out of Sasuke in this chapter.

• A few things are set in motion. Sakura draws on her experiences to make her stronger. From now on she will be a self-assured kunoichi, and her future decisions will reflect that. It's important to show this transition so it's not such a jump from scared girl in the chapters before to battle-ready ninja in the chapters ahead. Also, she is getting some minor positive attention from ANBU. Won't be overt, but the recognition of her strength and determination will wind through the chapters.

• A word about Sasuke — I'm writing him as an arrogant ass, but not as an arch nemesis. I hate stories where he's portrayed as either overly friendly or as the blood-thirsty bad guy. Going for the middle ground. Sasuke will remain an unlikeable character for a while. Not truly all bad, and if you look for it there will always be something slightly redeeming there.

• _Since her return, Sakura had thrown herself into the reconstruction efforts_ — So I've envisioned Orochimaru's attack as quite deadly, with lots of losses (more shinobi than civilian) and quite a few areas of destruction. The clean-up would take about six weeks.

• Kakashi's fun to write for, plain and simple. Just fun. I opted to just describe his facial expressions naturally instead of dancing around the fact that you can only see a small triangle of his face most of the time.

• Kakashi's speech to Sakura, then bringing dango to the whole team — Kakashi's speech and gift of sweets to cheer them all up is meant to be for all of them, not just Sakura, although she doesn't realize it. All three are in the same boat, they just don't recognize the hardships the other teammates have faced. But their good sensei does.

• _"What happened to your arm," Sasuke's gruff voice cut across her thoughts._ — Coming on the heels of Kakashi's inspiring speech to survive, Sasuke decides to ask Sakura about her arm. It's the first time he's spoken to her about her ordeal. The effect is like a train wreck. So, think that it's a reasonable intention but delivered by someone who is not in the habit of caring about anyone but himself. He's looking past his suspicions about what happened to ask about the harsh reality that someone hurt her. This is one of those things that is to be read between the lines, more or less. His character will evolve into one that's a better teammate, so stilted attempts like this one will wind through their interactions.

* * *

Thanks for all the amazing reviews, faves and alerts. I know I say it all the time, but they mean so, so much.

I'm glad everyone like the fight scene. I agonized over it. And opted for more pain less jutsu fireworks. The fight was to a draw, neither one truly won or lost. I don't want to have the characters kill without a good reason, either self-defense or downright hatred. I hate the ones with a long, flimsy body count behind them.

KungFu: I agree, kick-ass girls kick ass. Her character was written as unsure-of-herself to give her something to evolve from. And you're right, there is a small circle of shinobi who are actively looking for Naruto, Inoichi and Kakashi being some of them. :)

Piper: I'm with you, I like having the pairing updated in the same chapter...but this one had to be Sakura-centric. So, eh! You're right on the mark about Inoichi and Kakashi's interest in Itachi. They are silently searching for their lost young nin. And thanks so much for noticing that the fire in the fight scene was still a threat. I was definitely trying to make the environment as frightful as possible. Thanks so much!

Jitchoo: The hot-and-heavy romance so young kind of creeps me out. So, time skip, ahoy! Their relationship will develop and mature as they do. Next they'll begin a much deeper friendship, then later it will blossom into something more! ;) And you're right, I am trying to develop their characters in keeping with the spirit of the manga. He's adores her early on and that only deepens as time passes, while she her affection grows slowly but steadily. And he is still in the disguise cooked up by Itachi. But I'm trying to describe him more by his personality, and only highlighting the physical attributes that Sakura will remember later on (the soft crinkle at the corner of his eyes when he smiles, etc.). Thanks for your thoughtful review!

Animemistress and WitchyMage, thanks so much for your comments. It was sort of an emotional roller coaster, so I'm glad that it was conveyed, through the fight and the let-down afterwards!

Cerridwen, eluviete, kimiss, watchingtherain, moldock, linkoot, narutorocks and shai, saber and cvbaby, and everyone else - thanks guys!


	17. Journey

_Author's note: This one is embarrassingly long because it's actually two chapters worked into one. So enjoy!_

* * *

Skirting the edge of a summer-dry field, the brown-haired boy looked every bit like one of the local farm boys. Ragged pants rolled just below his knees. An oversized jacket hung loose on his frame. A smudged farm sack was slung over over one shoulder, and a tattered straw hat was doing a poor job of keeping the sun out of his eyes.

The bag and hat were the only things that were real. The rest of his outfit — threadbare jacket and pants, dusty sandals — was just a mirage, a perfectly executed henge. He was something of an expert at disguises, after all. It was what had kept him alive and undetected all these years.

Katsuro pushed up the hat and wiped wet hair off his forehead. He made it a rule not to transform everything. Some things he added, just in case he needed them or if anyone stopped him. This time he looked the part of a farm boy, even down to the farm tools in his sack. They jangled softly as he shifted the bag for a moment to air out his sweaty back.

The off-kilter cadence of a small wooden cart echoed up the empty road long before it came into view. But Katsuro quickly summed up the old farmer pushing it and decided he wasn't a threat.

A weathered old man approached him, bobbing a greeting from beneath his own battered hat. His wrinkled, brown face creased up with a quick smile. Katsuro smiled back and watched him closely, committing his interesting appearance to memory. He also studied his reaction to make sure there was nothing amiss. But he had no need to worry.

The man grunted something about the heat. Katsuro commiserated with a nod. Drawing up a saggy brown arm, the old farmer pulled down his hat and continued on without another glance.

Free from concern, Katsuro knocked back the brim on his own, comfortable now that he looked like one of the locals. It was the only person he'd seen all day.

He seemed to be constantly on the move now, traveling here and there for Itachi. And his disguises were always changing. But the tasks suited him. He'd rather be on his own anyway.

The growing presence of Akatsuki in the camp was unnerving.

Over time, things had subtly shifted in his group. They were not targeting merchants anymore as much as they were trying to influence some trade routes, tapping into the goods and money right from the source. He knew the Akatsuki had tasked Itachi with pushing merchants into trade with the Rain Country. It directly benefitted their little group — it got him out of running petty ambushes at least, he thought with a laugh — but he didn't know much else about it.

And he tried not to look too deeply. Which wasn't hard. It seemed that whenever the Akatsuki were around, Itachi packed him off on another errand immediately. And he was happy to go.

The assignments never amounted to much. Sometimes he'd leave Itachi's scroll or a little pouch of coin with their contact. Specific instructions as to which local businessman to influence. Or sometimes he'd pick up a scroll indicating which goods were moving where, and who they could count on in the future.

Once he'd finished his assignment he was free to do whatever he wanted for a few days. He had next to no money, but he relished his time away from the camps, the men, and the lingering Akatsuki members.

Itachi's involvement with that group was deepening. Members where forever coming and going through the camp, and Itachi himself was gone more often too. But Katsuro never questioned his connections to the other volatile men.

Once, Katsuro had admitted to Itachi that the group made him uneasy. Though his hidden power was never spoken of, he had some suspicions that a few were on to him. Katsuro even suggested they break ties with them.

"I am surprised," Itachi drawled. "I would have thought maybe you'd aspire to such an organization. They are all men of unfathomable power. Most shunned by their own villages, their own families...the ones who created them..." He let the statement hang in the air, waiting for a reaction.

Katsuro's expression darkened, but he said nothing. If Itachi was trying to flatter him, then it wasn't working.

"But you are suspicious of them," Itachi continued. "Interesting."

He was silent for a few moments, thinking.

"Well, maybe you should be suspicious," he said crisply. "They are all monsters, not to be trusted. And you would be wise to remember that."

Itachi stopped, an unkind smile tugged at the corner of his mouth.

"Because they all have their eye on the prize," he said, pinning him with his black gaze.

Itachi's words chilled him, but Katsuro was simply at a loss to understand. And they never spoke of Akatsuki again.

Katsuro did remember the warning, though. Even if Itachi was involved with them, he still felt that Akatsuki's members were just as much a threat to him as Konoha. And he vowed never to be anyone's weapon.

But none of that mattered out here. He was just another farmer. Hot, dusty, tired. On days like this, people didn't even look up when he passed. He loved it.

He knew the easiest way to disappear was to look like everyone else, not hide in the woods or stick to the back alleys. And he felt safe as the roads between the little towns were normally desolate. But sometimes it presented unique challenges.

Katsuro's stomach growled traitorously. He clamped his hand over his belly and grimaced.

Food supplies in the last town had been at a premium. He had several more days and very little money left. He hoped he'd find a crop of something edible along the way, but fields of golden, waist-high barley stretched out in every direction.

So he would just have to make it on nothing until the next town. Once there, he would scope out the fattest merchant and lighten his load of overpriced stock by one or two pieces. Fruit was easiest, but when you're hungry it's hard to be picky. And he was always hungry.

The heat bore down on him the more he walked, sinking through the hazed sky to sit heavy and thick on fields. He wiped his hand across his brow. Only the sound of crickets and the steady crunch of his sandals kept him company. And he had no idea how far it was to the next town.

Trees lined the edge of the fields, but their blue shade didn't meet the road. At the next rise of land, Katsuro shielded his eyes and squinted into the distance. A dark structure jutted out between the road and a yellow crop, but it was still a ways away. A shrine or an old shed, something with a roof at least, he thought. He headed right for it to wait out the heat.

But the roof turned out to be more canvas than wood, and as he drew closer, he could distinguish an old woman sitting underneath, the shady spot filled with carts and tables full of produce.

No shade, and food he couldn't afford. He sighed.

Scanning over the site, he could see she was alone, and it would be easy enough to pick off a few morsels. But this was probably all she had. His stomach growled at the mere thought of eating, but he knew he couldn't steal from an old woman in the middle of nowhere. Her life was probably hard enough out here. He'd survive.

At that moment a younger, wiry man came skulking out from behind the decrepit shed. He was carrying a frayed piece of twine. The woman motioned at a flapping corner of the tattered old awning.

The man grimaced, grabbed the torn piece of fabric, threaded the twine quickly through some gaping holes and tied it to the pole. He drew it tight with a jerk, and the ripping of canvas was so loud even Katsuro could hear it as he approached. The old woman pulled her hands to her face in a cringe.

"It won't work, Ma, I told you," he yelled. The fabric snapped loose and hit him on the head. The hole was even bigger than before.

Katsuro cleared his throat.

The woman smiled brightly and waved him over. The son stalked back behind the building without even a glance.

Katsuro inspected the hole in the awning. Frayed pieces of twine dangled from the failed repair job. One of many, he could tell. But it was nothing that some sturdier rope and a few well-placed knots couldn't fix. The son did more damage than good, he thought.

A movement drew his attention back. Beside him, the woman fanned her arms out over the table of fruits and vegetables. Locally grown, spotted and small, she had probably picked or dug each piece herself. Katsuro frowned and shook his head.

She held up a small peach, unblemished, and smiled broadly at him, pushing it at him from her stubby fingers.

He put his hand up to stop her, but she didn't notice. She was too busy picking out another peach for him to inspect. She held it up, smiling encouragingly.

"No money," he said clearly, shaking his head again.

Her face fell and she sat back in her seat. Wiping her forehead with a cloth, she glanced back down the lane. Watching her, Katsuro felt the emptiness of the road rolling away from him. He could guess what she was thinking, he was probably the only customer she'd see all day.

The light from the torn hole slanted hot and white across a tray of fruit, cooking it in the heat. Ruining it, he thought. Before the day was over it, the sun was likely cut across most of the table.

Remembering herself, she shrugged too and smile feebly back at him. As if to say it would be alright. She'd make it somehow.

Katsuro looked hard at her. She had not spoken to him. The whole time.

It occurred to him then that she couldn't speak.

He took in the dismal fruit, the shabby stand, the small old woman suffering through the heat. And something had happened in her life that robbed her of that little piece of humanity, the ability to use her voice. A stab of sympathy went through him. She was chained to this life, and her slacking son gave her no help at all.

"I—" he began, but didn't know what to say. He felt bad. She understood and smiled politely. As if understanding his sympathy and relieving him of any guilt.

She must get that a lot, he thought. But she was working hard, not feeling sorry for herself, not giving up.

He had no money for food, but he did have something else.

He dropped his pack and dug down until his hand caught the thin leather strap he knew was at the very bottom. He held it flat against his palm for moment before fishing it out.

Katsuro stood and turned toward the hole in the awning. The woman's eyes went wide.

Shimmying up one of the building's support poles, he gingerly reached out over the faded canvas. He caught up the fabric and slowly wove the leather strap between the two torn pieces. The sun baked his neck and arms while he worked, but eventually the mended pieces were sturdy enough to hold. He hopped down and tied the dangling ends of the leather strap to the awning pole. The old woman clapped from behind him as he finished. Katsuro turned back with a smile.

Suddenly she raised her hands as if she'd remembered something and disappeared beneath the table for a moment. When she popped back up, she held out two small, dingy bells tied to either end of a red ribbon. She pushed them at him, then pointed to the ends of the leather which he was just about to tuck in.

He nodded in understanding. She wanted him to tie up the old bells. He looped the leather underneath the red ribbon and tied it in a knot. Katsuro was about to let the two bells swing together, mildly curious if they even made a sound, when the fine detail around the center caught his attention.

Pulling it up quickly, Katsuro studied the intricate twining pattern that encircled the widest part.

"Temple bells?" he turned back to her, astonished.

She nodded. It was the same pattern from the huge old broken bells in the temple. He remembered it clearly. He let the bell swing gently down to it's mate, and they both chimed with a lovely, clear ring.

His hunger, the heat, his mission, was all forgotten for a moment. He was happy. He had done something good, helped her, and he felt good for it.

A touch to the bells set them chiming again. One high, one low. Behind him the woman clapped her hands.

He turned to see her smiling broadly and couldn't help but smile back.

Katsuro picked up his bag to sling it back over his shoulder, but she beckoned him over to the table. Thinking she might have another chore to be done, he stepped closer, still clutching the bag. But it was his turn to go wide-eyed. The old woman took the bag from his hands and began filling it with fruit.

She picked through all the fruits and vegetables, filling his sack with the very best, ripest ones, then handed it back to him, full of food. With a rough pat on his shoulder, she waved him on, bowing her head in thanks. He bowed back, feeling that he was the one who was the most grateful.

The bells chimed merrily as he walked away. Though the leather strap had been the only connection he had to her, he didn't need it anymore. Better to put it to good use, he thought, something he could feel good about. After all that had been two summers ago.

The young rogue thought about her often, many times when he didn't mean to. But there was always something to remind him. This time, it was the perseverance of an old woman. Things were bad all around her, but she didn't give up.

Katsuro bit into an over-ripe peach. He saw things so differently now. And he knew it was because of her.

* * *

The long hot days after Sakura's return to the village ran together in a blur. When she wasn't helping clear debris from Orochimaru's attack, she was either training or trying to log some hours at the hospital. But eventually, cooler weather broke the back of summer, and with the changing seasons came the new Hokage. Everything felt fresh and new, revitalized.

She was a powerful woman, one like Sakura had never experienced. And she seemed the perfect fit for the village now.

A former compatriot of the man who attacked Konoha, she was not to be taken lightly either. Some of the older shinobi and civilians traded colorful stories of her strength and strong will. Whether they were true or not, Sakura would not know. But the woman's arrival had been baptized with bloodshed: More than half the team that went to find her did not return.

"Shinobis we could not afford to lose," Kakashi said as they watched the thin procession file down to the Hokage's tower.

Sakura began to think there was some truth to the stories. Tsunade looked like a battle leader through and through. Head high, blonde hair pitched back over her shoulders, she strode purposefully up the center of the village. A wave of determination rolled through the crowds that lined the street. Even the bloodied shinobis who followed behind her seemed proud.

"They have reason to be proud," Kakashi said quietly, "I understand they had to fight Orochimaru. Even greatly weakened, he was a force to be reckoned with." A tall white-haired man at the back of the procession drew her sensei's attention, and he was off without another word.

But Sakura learned later the invigorating feeling that swept through the village did not reach all the way to the office of the Hokage. Sakura was surprised to discover the formidable woman was not adjusting as well as everyone assumed. And the village was in much worse shape than anyone thought.

Sakura chafed her arms lightly with her hands while she waited outside the Hokage's door. It was the first truly cool day of Konoha's mild winter season, and it made her wish she had worn warmer clothes instead of her dress fatigues. But she wanted to look her best, she thought, as she smoothed down her red shirt and pale over-skirt. After all, she had been invited by the Hokage herself to discuss entering into a fledgling med-nin program.

Sakura stilled her movements as another curse rang out. She was trying hard not to listen to the conversation that was drifting through the doorway, but it was awfully hard to ignore. Her poor sensei was taking a thrashing.

"And he is gone? Not a trace?" Tsunade's voice boomed.

"Hai," Kakashi said simply.

'Who were they talking about,' Sakura wondered. 'Orochimaru or one of our own?' She curled her hair behind her ear and gave up trying to be good. Leaning forward slightly, she bit her lip and strained to hear the rest of the conversation.

Tsunade's voice was muffled for a moment, but the last bit came through perfectly clear.

"_How_ could the Sandaime let this happen?"

"It was all carefully orchestrated," Kakashi said ruefully. "He timed it with the massacre. No one even knew until it was too late."

"No," Tsunade said firmly, "it wasn't reported until it was too late. That damned orphanage. I want to see every scrap of paper on it. No one gets in without my express permission."

There was the distinct sound of papers slapping onto a desk before she started up again.

"And I want to know everyone who is currently searching—"

"There's a small group of us," Kakashi interrupted. "And it has remained our highest priority"

"Yes," Tsunade said softly, sounding placated. "I understand you have a particular obligation."

Sakura didn't hear him answer, only clear his throat.

"Give me a list of the names," Tsunade rejoined. "And I don't have to tell you not to breathe a word about it."

"Hai," Kakashi said, sounding like himself again.

"Assuming he's still alive," she muttered. "But anyone else knowing would put him in terrible danger. He would be a target for every nation." Tsunade sighed. "And the consequences to us would be devastating."

The Hokage's assistant, Shizune, a slim black-haired nin with her own impressive past, rounded the corner. Sakura straightened up immediately. The clacking of her shoes drowned out the rest of the conversation in the office.

"Is she still speaking to Kakashi-san?" she asked politely.

Sakura was about to respond when Kakashi himself suddenly appeared in the doorway.

"No," he said lightly.

"Shizune!" Tsunade boomed from inside the office. Kakashi stepped aside quickly, and the woman hustled through the door. Then, with no more than a tight grin and a brisk pat on the shoulder, Kakashi ambled down the hall. Sakura stood in the sudden silence, feeling like she'd been sent into battle unarmed.

Shizune poked her head back out the door.

"Sakura-san? She will see you now," she said cheerily.

But the formidable blonde didn't even look at the girl. Tapping her glossy red nails on the desk, she glared pointedly at her assistant.

Shizune smiled serenely back.

"Not yet, Tsunade-sama. You still have one more appointment. It would be unseemly—"

"The state of this village is unseemly," she barked. "Now go get me a damn drink."

Shizune disappeared quietly.

If Sakura was surprised at the outburst, then it never showed on her face. She simply straightened her shoulders and waited.

Tsunade swept her gaze over the girl in front of her, acting as if a woman demanding a drink from the highest ranked office in the village was a perfectly normal thing. She was reasonably impressed that the girl was not ruffled by a temper. A good sign, she thought.

"Haruno Sakura," Tsunade she read from the topmost file on a large stack on her desk.

"I am interested in training kunoichis as med-nins." She flipped the folder open. "You and Ino have some skill, I see...although she seems to have spent more time in class," her voice trailed off as she scanned down through the file.

Something she read sent a look of surprise over her face. She glanced across the room to the Yondaime's taped picture frame then back to the kunoichi.

Sakura blushed, but said nothing. She knew the Hokage was reading about the fight she'd had in this very room with Sasuke. He had goaded her that day, she threw a punch and missed, resulting in the broken picture frame and their "team-building" mission to monitor the old trade road. It was only that past spring, but it felt like a lifetime ago.

"Perhaps you didn't study so much because you had other things occupying your time," Tsunade said dryly. She returned to the file, but the quick perusal soon turned serious.

Sakura watched the change in her expression. She could only guess that the woman was reading about her abduction. Sakura folded her hands behind her back, fixed her gaze outside the window and waited in silence.

At length, Tsunade closed the folder and put it down. She sat back and surveyed the girl, drumming her fingers on the file, clearly deep in thought.

Sakura's stomach flip-flopped under the intense scrutiny. She knew what was to come next, questions about the abduction, possibly reopening the investigation. She was the new Hokage, she would surely want to look into it. Sakura was just beginning to chastise herself on how foolish she was to think she could get away with such treachery, her dreams of med-nin training dashed before they'd even begun, her career as a ninja over, when Tsunade's voice cut through her fears.

"Well," she said finally. "Are you interested?"

Sakura was completely surprised. She blinked, opened her mouth and closed it once. She couldn't believe what she'd heard.

The sound of Shizune's heels echoing back up the long hall signaled the end of their meeting. Tsunade pushed the entire stack of files to the side, and went on speaking as if Sakura had already accepted.

"You will train with Shizune and myself, and we will see how you progress," she pronounced.

Sakura remembered herself. This wasn't a dream...or a nightmare.

"Hai," she said with a grateful smile.

* * *

So with the addition of medical training to her regular duties, Sakura's days stretched into weeks and months.

It was hard juggling the daily demands of required hospital hours and intervals of med-nin training, as well as keeping up with her own training and the infrequent missions of her team. She sparred a few times with Sai, but his schedule was as varying as hers. She and Sasuke simply didn't speak.

However she balanced the workload tolerably well. If they had more missions, it would have been much harder, but really they weren't sent on any. Which was perplexing.

On more than a few occasions Sakura overheard Tsunade mention what a "precarious position" the village was in. She spoke with Kakashi about some extra assignments, hoping he could fill some old requests. She lamented to Shizune that the backlog could be taken as a sign of weakness. And she muttered to herself that there were only so many excuses she could make to hide their shortage of shinobi.

So Sakura was surprised that her team was never picked for serious missions. Ever. They stayed within the village, running errands. Sai was often called away for work with ANBU, and Sakura certainly had a full plate. How Sasuke got on, she didn't know. But it seemed like, for now, Team 7 was village-bound.

After some sleepless nights worrying about it, Sakura finally decided that their team still being genins had to be the reason they were consistently overlooked. With that thought, she understood how valuable reaching chuunin was. And how much she wanted it. She had to work together with her team to even be accepted. She could still hate them, but she had to get along with them, protect them and fulfill the mission.

So she churned up the warming days with harder training. When they were assigned missions together — usually mind-numbing tasks for merchants or civilians — she worked hard to function as a team. Sasuke grudgingly acknowledged it. Sai didn't have much of an opinion, and she suspected that it was due to his involvement with ANBU. He was on his own already anyway.

But they strove toward a common goal, and found themselves at the beginning of summer accepted to participate in the chuunin exams. Privately, Sakura thought it was a fitting way to celebrate the year mark of her abduction. But she didn't have much time to dwell on the past. She had to use all her skills to get her through the written exam. And their stilted teamwork carried them through the forest trials. Even if they didn't work well together, they still managed to pull it off without a hitch.

But the arena fights were another matter altogether.

Leaning back in her seat she pushed her hair into a small ponytail. Only a few wisps were still too short to stay back, and those she curled behind her ears.

Both her match and Sai's were fought to a draw. All that was left to do was wait for Sasuke's matches. Looking around the packed arena, she guessed everyone else was waiting for it as well.

She did not cheer for Sasuke as he battled through his opponents; he didn't need encouragement nor was he expecting any.

He seemed to sense that his name was literally in the air. The Uchiha pitched his head back, stared down his opponent, and with quick curl of his fingertips beckoned his adversary to engage.

What arrogance, Sakura thought, but no one else seemed to notice it. Around her, citizens and shinobi alike leaned forward from their seats, excited to see an exhibition of his skill. The tragic progeny of a nearly extinguished bloodline. Yes, this was high drama indeed, she scoffed inwardly.

Ninjas from all over had streamed into the village for the exam. Many had heard of the Uchiha, and openly pushed to test their strength against his.

But there was no one else fighting up through the ranks who had any hope of touching him, save one. And Sakura was sincerely hoping they'd disqualify him before he was pitted against Sasuke.

The candidate from the Sand was horrifying.

Though small for his age, Gaara had seen much more battle and much less care than the average 15-year-old nin. His black fatigues were ragged with overuse, and the white cloth that draped across one shoulder was filthy and smattered with blood.

Sakura was reminded forcefully of the children that sometimes passed through the hospital, ones that weren't looked after as much as they ought to be. Their injuries usually stemmed from carelessness more than any outright abuse, but the faces of their family members always bore the guilt.

Choppy, blood-red hair fell limp and shaggy over Gaara's forehead. His pale blue eyes were ringed with black circles. Insomnia, thought Sakura clinically, but he showed no signs of fatigue. He gazed out from the sidelines with an obvious hunger, continuously scanning for his next opponent.

The more she watched him, the more he looked like a wild animal than a neglected child. But he was neither, she told herself. He was a shinobi, sent here to fight. And that thought was chilling.

Gaara obliterated the nins in his chosen battles. His sand jutsu made him a killing machine. The brutal source of his power, the sand streamed out of the large gourd at his back like it was alive, encasing and crushing anyone who threatened the boy. No honor, no remorse, no mercy. It was simply inhuman.

She stole a glance around for his compatriots. Did they support him, were they proud of him? Was this how they lived in Suna? It was a village similar to Konoha, except hidden in the deserts of the Wind Country. Was it so depraved there that this was the type of shinobi they revered?

No, apparently not. She spied his teammates not far from where she sat — a dark-robed puppet master and a fan-wielding kunoichi. The look of unease was etched clearly on their faces.

And guilt as well, Sakura thought with some satisfaction. She had heard they were his siblings, after all.

Cheers errupted all around her. Sakura turned just in time to see a body fly backwards across the arena floor. Sasuke decided the fight with a punishing drop kick. The audience was wild with enthusiasm for the dark-horse champion.

But from the side, Gaara watched Sasuke as if he'd found a new prey. His pale eyes followed him everywhere. It made Sakura's blood run cold.

All the shinobi's were dismissed for a small break before the final rounds. But when she and Kakashi returned an hour later to watch the last tier of matches, a large number of officials filed into Hokage's viewing area.

Sakura squinted at the fast-filling ceremonial box. When all the dignitaries were finally seated, they were two rows deep on either side. One half appeared to be from Konoha's council, but she couldn't account for the other people. They all donned brown cloaks, but since there was no other Kage present, she couldn't guess where they might be from.

Beside her, Kakashi caught the puzzling look.

"They're from Suna," he said quietly.

"Oh," said Sakura, still frowning.

"They sent a delegation, and Konoha responded in kind," he explained.

"But that's most of Konoha's high council," Sakura asked, motioning to the row of white-cloaked dignitaries that filled one side of the box. "I cannot remember them gathering for this event before. Actually, I can't remember any of them ever attending...well, anything!"

Kakashi leaned closer and lowered his voice.

"The Sand has not yet replaced their Kage, so they are ruling by committee." Sakura turned and raised her eyebrows at him. "A dangerous thing to be sure, but not unheard of," he continued. "To level the playing field, the Daimyo ordered the council to attend the match as well."

Sakura looked back at the very full box. Tsunade presided from an oversized ceremonial chair in the middle. Even from their distance, Sakura could see her drumming her fingers on the wooden arm of the chair. The clicking sound echoed effortlessly in her head.

"She doesn't look too happy about it," Sakura said quietly, never taking her eyes from the tense box.

"No, I'd say not," Kakashi chuckled.

At that moment the final round was announced. The top opponents would face off. And Sakura's worst fear was confirmed: The first match was between Sasuke and Gaara.

A knot formed in Sakura's stomach. The more she thought about it, the more she knew with certainty there was something wrong with Gaara. Medically, physically wrong. It wasn't just a strange jutsu or an unusual power. It seemed as if he was caught in the grasp of something. And that sand clearly had a life of it's own, she thought with a shudder.

Sakura looked quickly to the Hokage's box, hoping Tsunade had sense something too and would call it off.

But she didn't. Tsunade nodded once, slowly, signaling the beginning of the final round.

A hush fell over the crowd, anticipating the next battle. Bedside her, Kakashi was deathly quiet. Eyes fixed on the arena.

Sakura was alone in her concern, and the match began.

Gaara and Sasuke circled each other, trading glancing blows, stoking each other's fire. Sakura recognized the set of Sasuke's jaw, his clenched fists. His dark eyes widened a fraction. She knew him well enough now to tell when the sharingan was pushing forward. He wanted this fight. Too much.

But one look at Gaara and she could see he was just toying with Sasuke. Sand licked out from the top of the gourd. His eyes flashed maliciously.

"Kakashi-sensei..." she began, but stopped. What would she say? Please tell them to stop? She didn't like the looks of this guy?

From the other side of the ring, Sasuke was pulling up a sleeve, digging in his stance, gathering power and preparing to charge. His hand was glowing blue and an awful chirruping was filling the air.

"Don't worry," Kakashi said quietly, never taking his eyes from the arena. "I don't think this fight will get very far."

And no sooner had he spoken than a Konoha shinobi stepped into the space between the two nins and stopped the fight.

"Look," Kakashi said, directing Sakura's gaze back to the Hokage's box. Just at that moment, a Suna dignitary was conferring with Tsunade.

"The Sand stopped their own fight?" she asked. Either Suna didn't want to be beaten or they didn't want to give too much away.

But Kakashi didn't answer. He was already on his way down to the arena floor.

Sakura saw what spurred him: The two opponents were about to take matters into their own hands. Gaara was speaking lowly, eyes ablaze. Sasuke drew up one hand quietly, only to have it explode with blue light. The sudden charge of electricity sent a rush of air away from the two. Low murmurs rippled through the crowd.

Gaara's face twisted into a feral smile. Sand shot from the gourd, as murky red as the boy's hair. It licked the ground and began writhing to life around him.

Both Kakashi and Gaara's siblings landed in the arena with seconds to spare.

"This fight is declared a draw, on the Hokage's orders," the moderating shinobi announced. "The next match will be..."

A rattle of disapproval drowned out the rest. As the blue light faded, Sasuke shot a look of unvarnished anger at the Hokage's box before stalking out of the arena. But Gaara stood motionless in the ring, sand oozing back into it's container. His eyes followed only Sasuke.

Sakura had a sinking feeling their fight had not been stopped, just postponed.

And in the space of a few hours, she was proved right.

Sakura had the good fortune to turn down a lane just ahead of Gaara's sister, Temari. So she was not out of ear-shot when her brother Kankuro landed in a panic.

"He went after him. I couldn't stop him," the brother whispered desperately.

"I told you we should have left when we had the chance. Who knows what he'll do now!" Temari snapped. "Come on, we've got to find him."

Sakura immediately took to the roof and headed for the woods. It was the only place inside the village walls where they could fight without anyone noticing. If they were outside of the village...well, she didn't want to think of that possibility.

* * *

"Come on. Fight me," a voice snarled somewhere in the treetops in front of Sakura. "I want to feel it...taste it..."

She padded onto a limb in time to see Sasuke get flung past her. He crashed into a tree with a dull thud and slid down to the crook of a wide branch.

Sasuke was open. And Gaara wasn't what he was cracked up to be. She could see now why the fight had been stopped.

Sakura took in the half boy, half creature perched in a tree opposite Sasuke. His arm was twisting into a sandy, mutated mess. A beast's claw. It was the one which drove Sasuke into the trees with such force. And it was getting larger, consuming the rest of Gaara's body.

With his other hand, the one that still retained it's human form, Gaara dug his fist into his eye socket. A blood-red kanji scrawled onto his forehead flashed through his bangs. Then his face tightened, his arms tensed, and a dreadful growling ripped from his throat.

Sakura's earlier feeling was right, there was something else at work here. And he was transforming before her eyes.

She flew through her options. Sasuke was still vulnerable, and this boy was in no way backing down. She couldn't take him, but maybe she could calm him. Appeal to the human instead of the monster. It was a gamble, but it was something to go on, at least.

Gaara snapped his grotesque arm back to finish off Sasuke. She knew she'd never make it to him in time. So Sakura leapt straight in front to Gaara, yelling his name to draw his attention.

"Gaara-san," she called loudly as she alighted. Sakura turned to face him in one fluid movement, hoping she could stun him into stopping.

It worked.

He stopped. But Sakura was horrified at what she saw. A black-tipped paw suspended above her, the boy was halfway gone. Sand distorted one side of him, bulging out into swollen nobs. Taking on the structure of completely different creature. While one eye still shone pale blue, the other throbbed yellow and darted every where in it's disfigured socket. But both eyes suddenly fixed on her.

Sakura's stomach clenched in fear. The preternatural response of prey to it's predator. She ignored it.

"Gaara-san—"

The pale eye blinked at his name. Whatever was happening, the boy was still in there.

She pushed her fear of the monster away. This might be her only chance. Sickly yellow streaks of sand were already trying to consume the rest of his face.

"Thank you for traveling to Konoha to participate in the exam," she said, mouth suddenly dry. "Please forgive my teammate's haste for a rematch, Gaara-san."

His human eye blinked again. The fingers of sand spreading over his face froze for a moment. The progress of the transformation appeared to have haulted.

"Let us save our next battles for inside the sparring ring," she said with forced politeness.

But he seemed to be losing his battle. Gaara clutched his forehead with his pale human hand and laughed maniacally. It made Sakura's skin crawl, but she was determined not to show her fear.

"On behalf of Konohagakure, we bid you safe travels to Sunagakure," she said.

"Sakura," Sasuke said through gritted teeth. "What are you doing?"

"Helping you," she said quietly over her shoulder. Buying you time, dammit.

"Get out of here," Sasuke yelled back at her angrily. "He's gonna kill you!"

Sakura meant to call back at him, tell him to run, but was already too late.

Something inside Gaara snapped. The moment was lost.

Before Sakura's eyes, the sand streaked across the rest of his face. Both eyes glared back yellow and beady.

In a blur, the sand arm shot toward her. She tried to leap straight up, jump clear of where she thought it would impact. But it was impossible to calculate how much larger it was.

Even as the arm hurtled toward her, his whole body was distorting, bulging, growing.

A huge claw of sand pushed her out of mid-air and slammed her high against one of the ancient trees. Sakura's head snapped back against the rough bark with a crack. The sand clamped her like a vice, pushing the air out of her lungs. Dazed, she moaned against the pain.

At the edge of her consciousness, she could feel the sand seeping up her exposed arms and legs, sticking to her skin and oozing through her clothes. It was deep red, and stunk of gristle and old blood.

The scent hit her nose and jarred her to lucidity. This was the sand that crushed his opponents. She was drenched in the life blood of his other victims. And she was next. Sakura sunk her fingers into the gooey mess, trying desperately to lift her limbs and claw her way out.

But the sand constricted instantly, tightening everywhere against her, making her head throb with pressure. Every other sensation was lost to her, save one. She could still hear her own panicked heartbeat, her own relentless thrumming of blood. She was still alive, at least. Maybe if she could—

Sakura managed one more shallow pant before a final squeeze wiped the last of her awareness away.

"She means something to you?" the disfigured sand nin snarled at Sasuke. Sakura's head suddenly drooped forward over the clutching sand. "Now you have no reason to hold back. _I will kill her if you don't fight me_," he roared.

"Dammit," Sasuke cursed under his breath, scrambling to his feet to lunge after him.

* * *

Following the obvious sounds of fighting, Kakashi landed deftly on a branch but only just missed careening into Gaara's siblings.

The two didn't seem to notice him, however.

Kakashi was about to lash out at them for not keeping better track of their brother, but the words died on his lips as he registered Temari's pale face, and followed Kankuro's unwavering eye line.

There was Sakura, ashen and limp, pinned to a tree under a clamp of sand. Kakashi's gut sank like a stone

"She still alive," Kankuro uttered, astonished. "H-he never leaves anyone alive. Ever."

"He? Who?" Kakashi mastered himself enough to snap at the siblings.

"Gaara," Kankuro admitted. "He has control of the sand that's around her."

"Then he has to be stopped," Kakashi said coldly, grasping the situation. He dispatched a clone for backup.

"You two are coming with me," the silver-haired nin continued in a tone that left no room for argument.

As they took off towards the sound of fighting, Sakura's sensei peppered them with questions.

"Why are you here?" Kakashi demanded.

The brother looked queasy. "We were sent to monitor Gaara."

Temari shot him a stern look.

"We were sent by the council to participate in the exams" she said with diffidence.

"I see," Kakashi said dryly. "And let me guess, Gaara was sent to challenge Sasuke?" They said nothing. But it was clear Kakashi knew much more about the true nature of their visit to Konoha than he was letting on. "Why is she involved in this?"

"She stopped it," Kankuro said, not bothering to hide his disbelief. "She spoke to him, and stopped it. I didn't know anyone could...I've-I've never seen him control it." Kakashi prompted him to continue. "She told him he was a worthy opponent, that Sasuke had dishonored him. Called him Gaara-san."

"And that's it?" Kakashi snapped. This was getting him nowhere.

"She spoke to him with respect," Temari clarified softly, "even when he was half-transformed. Treated him as if he hadn't changed at all. She stood right in front of him and just talked to him. It must have given him some control for a moment."

They tumbled onto the scene just as reinforcements were streaming in from other parts of the village. Gaara's monstrous form was growing, breaking the treetops. Sasuke flitted from limb to limb, trying to escape it's swinging claws.

They worked together to deplete his chakra. Gaara exacted a heavy toll before it was over, killing off several shinobi. But they persevered. Kakashi delivered the final blow, shattering the hold the sand had on the boy, and sending him to the forest floor.

Kakashi dropped down through the branches to stand over Gaara's battered body. The gourd had tumbled beside him, and murky sand streamed from all over the ground, snaking back into the top on its own.

Standing above the fallen Sand nin, Kakashi blinked at him once. He knew what the boy was. And he knew that he could kill him now. Easily.

Kankuro landed softly on the other side of Gaara and looked nervously across at Kakashi. His thoughts ran along the same lines as the Leaf nin.

No one moved for a moment. Kakashi quietly dispatched a clone. It sped off in the direction where Sakura was held.

"I have every right to demand blood for this," Kakashi said sternly to Kankuro.

"I know," Kankuro replied. Temari dropped down behind him.

"He is our brother," Temari said ruefully, "but he is also a monster."

Kakashi didn't want to hear it, though. He didn't see it that way. And apparently neither did Sakura.

"If he can control it," Kakashi said, pointing at Gaara, "then you have to help him. You both have an obligation to protect him from harm.

"Jinchuuriki's weren't meant to be slaves to their demon. Or to their village." Kakashi stopped and gave them both a probing look. "I will tell you what was told to me many years ago: The role of the jinchuuriki is that of a protector. And it is _your_ job is to protect _him_.

"Not everyone sees it that way," he continued, hoping they gathered his underlying message. Not everyone was trustworthy.

Kakashi reconsidered. Maybe they were too young to understand village politics. Better to be blunt.

"Don't let your council send him out to be their weapon," Kakashi said firmly. Temari stared outright at him, Kankuro only nodded.

Kakashi watched them closely, let his words sink in. He hoped they proved more capable than he was at their age. After all, Kakashi had failed to protect Konoha's jinchuuriki.

It was his job, his alone. He had been asked to be the boy's guardian, and he'd failed to keep him from harm. Or rather, from those who would _use_ him to do harm. Another misery he'd learned to live with, he thought with a deep sigh. Maybe he could keep these kids from making the same mistakes.

But kindness wasn't the only reason Kakashi had to spare Gaara's life. Killing their jinchuuriki would surely cause strife between the two countries. Sparing him placed Suna in Konoha's debt. And Kakashi knew it was political maneuvering their village could use.

The silver-haired nin took a step back.

"The Hokage will make sure your council knows what happened here," he said. "That we were attacked, and we have forgiven the blood debt owed to us."

Kankuro replied in kind, straightening his shoulders respectfully and bowing his head. Glad that he didn't have to go back with the body of his brother and explain how things got so out of hand.

"I will report as well on the attack, and your honor and mercy in sparing his life," he said.

Kakashi stepped back another pace and let the Sand shinobi claim his brother.

"Thank you," Kankuro added quietly.

Kakashi nodded quickly. Both leapt away from the spot. Kankuro and Temari carrying their unconscious brother, Kakashi to tend to Sakura.

* * *

The Hokage had seen better days. And trying to wrap her head around why her favorite student was involved in a dustup with a foreign shinobi, one that almost took her life, was not a day she wanted to remember.

"So your theory was right," Kakashi said. "They did send their jinchuuriki to test 'ours.'" He couldn't help but laugh at the irony. "But at least we know now that the other nations believe Sasuke to be our jinchuuriki."

Tsunade nodded soberly at the confirmation.

"Gaara's goal must have been to draw out his strength," Kakashi continued, thumbing distractedly at the pages of his romance novel. "And Sasuke was hot-tempered enough to take the bait. Yet in the end, Suna's council didn't want to face the possibility that their jinchuuriki might be beaten by ours."

Kakashi shook his head and slapped the book down on the bedside table.

Sakura stirred — Kakashi and Tsunade turned automatically to the bed — but she didn't wake. The silve-haired nin sighed and kicked his feet out in front of him, trying to get comfortable in the stiff hospital chair.

"And how exactly did she get involved in this?" Tsunade said, walking around the bed to stand at the window.

"According to Gaara's siblings, she stood between them," he said. "She was speaking to Gaara, apparently trying to buy Sasuke a little time."

Tsunade rolled her eyes at the girl's naivete. "Talking. She's a ninja, she should know better. Talking gets you nowhere. They certainly didn't send him to have a chat."

But Kakashi shook his head. "No, I think Sakura had the right idea."

Tsunade raised an eyebrow at him.

"Apparently, he was listening," he continued. "It had even gone so far as to arrest the transformation. But something Sasuke said provoked it."

"And what magic words did she use?" Tsunade quipped.

"The two from the Sand said she spoke to him respectfully," Kakashi said. "Told him he was an honored guest of Konoha and that Sasuke was in the wrong. Wished him safe travels."

Tsunade looked back over at the soft rise and fall of the bed covers. The bandaged head and the bruised eyes.

"Lot of good it did her," she said quietly.

Kakashi cleared his throat. "She is the first person he has ever left alive."

The Hokage shot him a clearly skeptical look.

"His brother said they didn't think he could control it," Kakashi explained. "But apparently he can. Or can if he's encouraged. She must have understood that."

"Then we are fortunate on many counts," Tsunade sighed. "But we cannot keep our secrets forever. You saw firsthand how much power he held. And so young..."

She shook her head and folded her arms over her chest.

"That was just a ridiculous display by the fools from the Sand," she said. "Running about headless without a Kage. To send their jinchuuriki to lure ours out," she scoffed. "None of the other nations would be so reckless."

Tsunade cast a sidelong glance at Sakura and walked back around the bed.

"But we would be the fools not to learn from their errors," she said quietly. "There are other villages, other nations, waiting to hear of Gaara's conquest. Waiting for news of our 'jinchuuriki.' We are still safe, for now, even if they do believe it is Sasuke — which I'm not in favor of, by the way," Tsunade said emphatically. "He needs to live his own life. The council already has him gagged and bound," she said with a roll of her eyes.

Kakashi couldn't help but smile. But Tsunade turned more serious.

"Konoha may as well be built on a crumbling cliff. Ours is a village is without protection. Once it's finally discovered..." her voice thinned.

"We must find him," she whispered earnestly to Kakashi. "Everything depends on it."

Sakura drew in a sudden breath. Her eyelids fluttered open. She blinked at Tsunade, then focused on Kakashi. Her sensei just smiled at her.

"Sakura do you know where you are?" Kakashi said. She nodded slowly. "Do you know why?"

"Gaara," she said thickly.

Seeing she would be alright, Tsunade reached for the door handle, but Kakashi motioned for her to stay. He wanted to support his theory, wanted to believe that she had seen something different.

"Sakura, what made you decide not to engage... How did you know to speak to him? Not to fight him?"

She cleared her throat.

"Half-monster, half-human," she rasped. "Spoke to the human."

"Weren't you scared?" Tsunade asked skeptically, leaning a shoulder against the door frame.

Sakura nodded and swallowed.

"Faked it," she said with a tired smile.

Kakashi just beamed. Tsunade laughed softly and twisted the handle. As the door slid closed, she heard Kakashi murmuring something encouraging to his student, then rhythmic burble of water pouring into a glass.

With a sigh, Tsunade walked back up the empty hall. They truly had been lucky.

But she knew it was only a matter of time before the village's luck ran out.

* * *

Sakura's recovery was swift, and she eased back into her training and med-nin duties faster than anyone expected. The sheen of her promotion to chuunin stayed with her all summer. Any day, she knew her team would be called for more important missions, the ones that would take them out of the village for days or weeks at a time. She foolishly even lightened her workload expecting them. But as the nights turned cooler and the days grew shorter, her hopes faded.

Then finally, one late-fall morning, any room for doubt was erased. Kneeling on the roof of the Hokage's tower, flanked by Sasuke and Sai, Sakura watched in disbelief as the crisp brown leaves blew past her fingertips. They were kicked up in the wake of the other nins leaving for their missions. Sakura looked up in time to see the whirling edge of Tsunade's green cloak as she turned to walk back inside the tower.

They had been left there. Unassigned.

Sasuke never even looked up. He pounded his fist into the ground, then with a wrathful noise he leapt off the tower without another glance back. Beside her, Sai blew out a long, low breath, then left as well, conspicuously heading in the other direction.

Alone, Sakura stood slowly and sunk her hands down onto her hips. Another breeze ruffled her hair and sent more dry leaves scuttling past her feet.

There seemed to be no end to the grating little assignments they had in the village. So many nuisance things that Sakura had lost count. She had begun to think Tsunade was just making up tasks for them to do to keep Team 7 out of her hair.

But she was certain now that they were being singled out. Left behind. She had dismissed it as their lower rank, her lack of experience or Sai's near-continuous ANBU work... But she was out of excuses.

Sakura rubbed a hand across the back of her neck and shifted her weight.

She thought of Sasuke, black hair tipped forward over his eyes, hands in tight fists on the ground. He knelt, but his fingers weren't in taught readiness like the rest of the shinobi, like her, waiting for their assignment. Anticipating the need to launch off the ground at a moment's notice.

He seemed to know they weren't going to be assigned. He seemed to be waiting for it.

Sakura's mouth fell open. Was _he_ the reason? Had someone decided to bar him from missions, keep him in the village? Not let him out of their sight?

Sakura could not think who would hold him back. But she did know one thing for certain: The Hokage assigned all the missions. She would have known Sakura was being passed over as well.

Sakura kicked at a few leaves. She couldn't help but feel betrayed. The one person who had taken such interest in her training was also the one who kept her back.

'No,' she reminded herself, 'it wasn't Tsunade. It was Sasuke who was holding her back.'

She laughed out loud at the irony. Sasuke had truly become the dead weight on their team.

Sakura took a few steps and leapt of the roof. There was nothing for her to do that day but return to the hospital. Hope that her training and hard work would one day pay off. She'd faced worse, after all, she told herself. But it didn't make her much feel better.

The winter days ticked by, gray and forgettable. She tried not to take it personally when they were passed over for big missions, but it still stung no matter how she looked at it.

Even her med-nin training was not as enticing as it once was. Sakura's thoughts often swirled around their team problem while she was plodding through the dry medical research that made up half of her training. She couldn't fathom why Tsunade would take such interest in her, yet hold her entire team back.

There was nothing for it, though, but to keep going. She wouldn't solve the dilemma today. Or tomorrow for that matter. 'Or ever,' she wanted to yell in frustration.

Instead she sighed deeply and began clearing the examination table. When she started training in earnest, Tsunade moved the sessions to one of the scroll rooms at the bottom of the Hokage's tower. There was more information available and less interruption by well-meaning hospital staff. And the privacy meant Tsunade could relax a little bit.

But their training was ending early that day because of Tsunade's meeting with the council. It was a standing date, and the Hokage despised it.

"Damn the clans and their damned rights and regulations! This is a waste of my damned time!" she said as the door slammed behind her.

Most times she tried to get out of it. But this time, she couldn't.

Sakura was just tucking away the medical scrolls when Tsunade strode back in with a small yellow folder. It had no label.

"Sakura, I need you to bring this to the meeting exactly 25 minutes after it starts. Come to the side door, not the main entrance. And be prompt. Any later and they won't let you in. Can you do that?"

"Of course," she said, perplexed, taking the folder. "But isn't it a closed meeting, for clan members only?"

Tsunade nodded, a corner of her full lips hitched up in a smile. "Yes, that's why I need this before the half-hour mark."

"Hai," Sakura said swiftly.

She counted down the minutes and was headed to the council door at precisely 24 minutes after the start. But fidgeting with the folder on the way down the hall dislodged a paper. It fluttered softly to her feet. Sakura intended to pick it up without looking at it, knowing it must be confidential. But the glaring red letters of "TAKE OUT" emblazoned across the top drew her attention immediately.

Horrified, Sakura snatched up the menu and slipped it back in the folder when the door in front of her opened. The ANBU on guard stepped out and a civilian bustled past.

Sakura crushed the folder to her chest. Had she set Tsunade's folder down then picked up a different one by mistake?

"Are you here for Hokage-sama," the ANBU asked.

Sakura thinned her lips and nodded quickly.

"I was told to expect you," he said and ushered her in. The door lock clicked unmistakeably behind her.

Sakura stood for a moment and let her eyes adjust to the dimmer light. She had entered through a side door onto a broad ceremonial room. The council was seated around a horseshoe shaped table, with Tsunade at one end of it, the Fire Daimyo and his advisors making up the bulk of it, rounded out by the village's two very frail looking elders. Across the room, beyond the expansive floor, several clan representatives waited in the shadowy darkness.

Sakura made her way unobtrusively down the side of the room to stand behind Tsunade. The woman held out her hand expectantly. Sakura grimaced but stepped forward, put the folder in her palm, then stepped back to her spot. It was clear that she was expected to stay there. Tsunade set the folder aside for the moment.

Man after man came forward before the council, aired their grievances or made requests, and the council render it's verdict. It went on and on. Their troubles were petty, the demands were ridiculous, and Sakura's feet were beginning to ache. She could understand why Tsunade hated it.

Sakura wondered distantly if it might be a punishment to make her stand here, until the last man came forward out of the shadows.

It was Sasuke.

Cutting an intimidating presence in his black fatigues, he looked as arrogant as ever. He stood in the center, directly in front of the Daimyo, and shot them all a hard look.

No one spoke. He made no request. In fact, it was almost like Sasuke was waiting on them. As if this were an inconvenience to him, not the other way around.

The men at the center of the table, however, were unfazed.

"Uchiha Sasuke, same as the last time," the long-faced Daimyo drawled, "your request is denied."

"It is my right as the head of my clan—" Sasuke demanded.

"You are still 16?" the man cut him off.

"Yes, but I turn—"

"Then you have not yet reached maturity," he continued, almost bored, "and therefore are still a ward of the village."

"You forget the role of the Uchiha in this village," Sasuke said incensed, pointing a finger at the man. The Daimyo looked as if he wanted to roll his eyes. "I have the _right_ to leave the village, go on missions."

Sasuke ground his hands into his fists. Seizing on another thought, his voice turned low and deadly.

"My clan's techniques are not a weapon to be used only when you see fit."

"We have not forgotten your clan's role in this village," the man said condescendingly. "And we want to help you preserve the Uchiha's esteemed techniques—" But Sasuke cut across his words.

"By keeping me under lock and key?"

"By keeping you alive," the Daimyo snapped. "You are targeted by other villages, not just by your..." but the man thought better of mentioning Itachi Uchiha in front of Sasuke. And he wouldn't meet the young nin's eye to see his mounting fury. Instead the man shuffled the papers in front of him in dismissal.

"You are suspended to D- and C-rank missions until we decide otherwise. And right now, those are all here in the village," the Daimyo pronounced. "This decision stands, no matter how many times you come before us."

The two ancient elders opposite Tsunade nodded their approval. How Tsunade felt about this, Sakura could not tell. But from behind her, she could see the woman's arms were folded tightly. She was not pleased, Sakura knew that much for sure.

Sasuke pivoted and left the room, slamming the door behind him so hard it rattled the wall.

Sakura had not moved during the entire episode.

Over Tsunade's shoulder, she watched her open the folder and circle a main entree and a few sides off the menu. She snapped the folder shut and held it up for Sakura to retrieve.

"Take this to Shizune. She'll know what to do," she said with a dramatic whisper.

She acted as if it was the most important document in Konoha. Sakura stared at the folder, confused. Was she missing something here?

She took the folder anyway, but Tsunade didn't let go.

Tipping her face up in question, Sakura caught Tsunade's glittering eyes. A ghost of a smile played on her lips.

It dawned on Sakura then that the whole thing had been a ruse.

The formidable woman had orchestrated a way for Sakura to be in the room, to see what was going on with her teammate, without ever having to tell her. In fact, Sakura knew these meetings were strictly classified. Tsunade probably was forbidden from even talking about it, as a concession to the cagey clan heads.

Sakura understood. Folder in hand, she stifled the urge to grin back.

"Hai," Sakura nodded firmly. Then she turned and left the room with a ridiculously purposeful air, as if Tsunade's take-out order for lunch truly was the most important document in Konoha.

* * *

Sakura picked up the overstuffed crate and stacked it beside the back screen door of a busy Konoha store. She wondered how unloading the teetering merchant's cart classified as a "mission," but tried not to let it bother her.

Attending the council meeting made all of the irritating village missions more bearable. She wasn't being singled out by Tsunade. Sakura just had the misfortune of being paired with Konoha's most closely monitored nin.

Not that it changed Sasuke's attitude any, she thought as she heard him drop a crate a little too roughly.

"Oi," the red-faced merchant yelled from the doorway. "There better not be anything broken!"

Sakura grimaced. She wished Sasuke would just try to get along with these people. It would make everything easier.

As it was, the only reason Team 7 completed most of their missions was because Sakura was left to smooth things over. Sai was away most of the time, and Sasuke... Well usually it only took one cross word or an outlandish demand to send him storming off. Leaving her to apologize and finish the job.

But truthfully, Sakura was glad to see him go. It made everything easier.

At least he showed up for the missions, she thought, that was something. He did have some scruples about doing the job that was assigned to him. And it couldn't be easy, she thought charitably, knowing it was the council holding him back.

She sighed, hoisted up another crate then set it gingerly down next to the others.

Sai had ANBU, but for her and Sasuke this was it. There was really no other outlet. The hospital work was just plain hard. And what good is med-nin training if you can't get to a battlefield?

She stood and stretched her back.

As far as assignments went though, she thought as she dusted her hands, this one definitely sucked. But they were a team, and this was their mission. There were no others. So she stuck it out.

Closing her eyes for a moment, Sakura wiped the sweat off her face. When she opened her eyes she nearly jumped as she found two ANBU standing right in front of her.

One nodded at her. She nodded back, the familiar chill creeping in that they were here for her. Instead Sai stepped forward, said a brisk goodbye to his team, and the three were gone just as quickly as they'd arrived.

She breathed a small sigh of relief, but turned to find Sasuke staring blackly at the empty space, a full crate balanced on his hip. Something inside him snapped.

He threw down box with an oath, shattering the wood at one end of it. Broken shards spilled out with their wrappings, but he never even saw it. Sasuke turned on his heel and strode away, hands splayed at his sides as if trying to rid himself of something that clung to him.

Sakura looked at fragments of wood and porcelain that littered the ground — the irritated voice of the merchant was already carrying out of the store door, shouting about "broken goods" and "who's going to pay" — then she looked to the unyielding line of Sasuke's shoulders. He wasn't turning around. Was he really going to leave her with this mess?

Sakura's cheeks flushed with anger. She didn't mind smoothing over his bad behavior, finishing things up on her own. But this was unforgivable.

Sakura dashed up the lane after him. She was not going to take the blame for his temper-tantrum. The screened door crashed behind her. Sakura cringed, but didn't stop. The exploding voice of the merchant sent birds flying from the trees. But she didn't turn back. She had a bone to pick with her teammate.

"Sasuke," she yelled after him. He only turned his head slightly at his name but kept his brisk pace.

"We are a team, you can not leave a mission," she said, closing the distance between them.

At that, he finally did stop. His rage had cooled a little. Sasuke turned on her with that arrogant smirk she knew so well.

"We are no team, Sakura," he said coldly. "This is a waste of my time."

"It was assigned to Team 7, we _have_ to do it," was all she could think to say. "Whether we like it or not."

"No 'we' don't," he rounded on her. "Sai doesn't have to do this. And I shouldn't be. But you," he sneered, "this is all you've got."

It was so cruel it took her breath away.

"If you want to keep wasting your time here, trying to get into the Hokage's good graces," he narrowed his eyes knowingly, "then be my guest." He turned to go, but said over his shoulder, "Just quit annoying me, Sakura. 'We' are no team."

Without another look back, he turned and walked away, leaving her standing in the middle of the street.

Sasuke's words hit her like a slap. She just stood there and watched him go. Leaving her to pick up the pieces. Literally.

He was right. This was no team. And her doing the bulk of the work was not teamwork. But some way, somehow, even though she knew it wasn't true, he had made her feel like she was the one screwing it up again.

Sakura collected herself and numbly returned to the job. She didn't hear the merchant shouting about how Konoha ninjas were good-for-nothings nowadays. She didn't blink when he demanded she pay out of her own pocket for the whole crate of goods. She didn't say a word when he threatened to report every last bit of this incident to the Hokage.

Several hours later she unloaded and finished the mission. By herself.

"Thank you for your patronage, sir," she said tonelessly. "The Hokage will reimburse you for the damages."

The screen door slammed in her face.

She sighed and bent a sore arm to tuck the mission scroll in her pocket. Then she slowly made her way to the Hokage's office to make her report.

"Enter," Tsunade said tiredly. Sakura founded her seated between two very large stacks of paperwork on her desk.

She sat back and sighed, pushing blonde wisps away from her forehead.

"I heard what happened," she said, saving Sakura the trouble. "Sasuke's already been by. Said he'll pay for the damages."

Sakura was too tired to be gracious, so she just kept her mouth shut.

But she scowled at the memory of his callous words. To have worked so hard, in spite of everything, to cultivate a team, only to have it thrown in her face?

''Bastard,' she thought bitterly.

Her expression wasn't missed by Tsunade.

"Yes," she said dryly, "my thoughts exactly."

Sasuke's generosity was little consolation for sticking her with the blame and the work. Tsunade guessed there was more to the story, but she'd let Sakura cool off first before she asked what really happened.

Tsunade took up another sheet of paper from the largest stack, gave it a quick glance, then wearily plopped it onto the top of the smaller stack.

Sakura felt a little ashamed. Her problems with Team 7 seemed ridiculous compared to the duties of a Hokage. She had the care of a whole village on her shoulders. And these mountains of paperwork were daunting enough. How could one village produce so much documentation?

"Um, Tsunade-sama," Sakura said hesitantly, "what _is_ all this stuff?"

The Hokage recited all the possible things that could be in the highest pile — legal documents, ordinances, complaints, deeds, the list went on and on — then she laid her hand atop the smaller stack.

"And these are requests made to Konoha by anyone and everyone. Some just need an official, but some need an armed escort. Some are within the Fire Country and some are from bordering nations," she said.

She drummed her red fingernails on the papers.

"But we simply don't have enough teams available to fill these minor requests. I can't justify it. And you're team," her mouth snapped into a frown at the thought. "As you well know, it's just not an option."

Irritated, she picked up a few more folders from the largest pile and flipped through them. One she threw in the trash outright, the other she slapped onto the mission request pile.

Sakura looked at the growing stack. She had overhead enough in the past two years to know it reflected badly on the village to let any requests go unfilled. Made them look weak. Tsunade would never say it, but Sakura guessed she must be doing everything in her power to keep up the village's facade of strength.

"Just like her," Sakura thought, glancing at the purple diamond on her forehead. The mark that controlled her chakra and kept her appearance flawless, even in midst of all this mess.

Shizune knocked quietly and pushed the door back, carrying tea and another stack of papers.

Tsunade groaned.

Sakura stepped aside, dug around in her hip pack and pulled out the mission scroll. Her filthy hands, her burning muscles were harsh reminders of the work she'd done today, alone. She dropped the scroll into the box of completed missions, beside the growing stack of requested ones.

Sakura thought about what Tsunade had said. Those missions required a single person, someone in an official capacity from Konoha, maybe as a ninja, maybe as a beast of burden, and she didn't want to assign them to an entire team because the status was so far beneath them... Well that sounded like everything she'd done for the last year. She was somewhat of an expert at nuisance jobs that she had to handle on her own.

And what difference would it make if was inside the village or out of it? As long as Sasuke wasn't around, it had to be better. The thought of another mission with him after today's episode made her stomach turn.

"Tsunade-sama," she began again. "Would you consider these D- or C-ranked?"

"Yes, most of them," she said, glancing at the pile. Shizune filled a small cup with tea, then set about trying to find a clear spot on the desk to put it.

Sakura cleared her throat and studied the dirt under her fingernails with a frown, thinking of how she could help.

Clearing her throat again, Sakura dropped her hand to her hip, shifted her weight and tipped her face toward the ceiling. A few solutions came to mind, but she'd have to put it to the Hokage...

Sakura was just tapping her other fingers on her chin when she happened to glance across the desk. Both Tsunade and Shizune were staring back at her. The teacup slanted at a dangerous angle from Shizune's grasp.

Sakura dropped her hands immediately to her sides and cleared her throat again. Tsunade smiled, finding her student's discomposure mildly amusing.

Sakura had been trying to find a delicate way to broach it — she'd never heard of nins requesting their own assignments — but maybe this time it was better to just be honest.

"Why couldn't _I_ do these missions? I mean, they sound like what I already do anyway. Nuisance jobs for ungrateful clients, right?" she said, rolling her eyes. "And I've been handling those on my own for a while now." Her voice dropped a notch at the recollection, but she banished the errant thoughts. "So, these assignments would be no different really, just outside the village walls rather than inside."

Tsunade's small smile vanished. Shizune plunked the teacup down on top of the highest stack of papers, her mouth slightly open.

Sakura cringed. Maybe she'd been a little too honest.

"I-I can't believe—" Tsunade said with a small gasp. Sakura shut her eyes.

"I can't believe we didn't think of this earlier. It's perfect!"

Sakura's eyes flew open to see Tsunade beaming at her.

"Really?" she said, not believing it herself.

Shizune put a hand to her mouth and laughed. Tsunade smiled with her, shaking her head in amazement at their good fortune, then looked back to Sakura.

"I guess sometimes the answer can be right in front of you, but you just don't see it," she said.

Sakura smiled too. It was the answer to so many problems. Tsunade's requests were filled. Sakura could make a difference for her village. No more Team 7. No more Sasuke!

"Well," said Tsunade, breathing deeply. "Let's get to work, shall we?"

She pulled off the topmost folder in the mission request pile while Shizune scooped up the teacup from it's precarious perch atop the other pile.

Sakura stepped forward to help sort through the files, picking out which requests she could plow through first. Her weariness from the day's assignments was completely forgotten.

* * *

Before the week was out, Sakura already had her first two missions lined up. And three more were assigned for the following week. She couldn't be happier.

Those first rounds of missions were a blur. Some were finished within a day, some required overnight travel. And the tasks ran the gamut, but most often she found herself delivering official scrolls or picking them up.

Sakura enjoyed being outside of the village, learning about the people and places of her country. She visited temples and political offices, chatted with merchants and healers. She found the diplomacy suited her. And she was growing more comfortable relying on her own strength and intuition to get her through. Though the assignments were never dangerous, each request was unique and presented its own special challenges and benefits.

As the weeks passed and more missions were assigned, it seemed sometimes Sakura was outside of the village more than she was in it. Tsunade mentioned more than once that she could slow down, but Sakura never did.

And Tsunade was quietly pleased. They were moving through the request pile faster than she'd hoped.

Winter gave way to spring, and Tsunade sent her farther afield on longer, more involved assignments. Instead of just overnight, Sakura would sometimes be required to stay several days at a time. She didn't bat an eye. The missions were still within the Fire Country, but now her skill as a shinobi was required in addition to acting as an official emissary from Konoha.

In one town, Sakura was assigned to oversee a simple trade agreement in Konoha's stead. The local officials were pleased and treated the her with every courtesy afforded a visiting dignitary.

But the request that was sent to Tsunade carried some confidential aspects. It asked for a shinobi to be sent as well, in case there were problems enforcing the agreement. Sakura filled both roles perfectly. And just her presence at the meeting was enough to ensure success.

Tsunade received glowing reports from the town. And since Sakura was perfectly willing and capable to handle the small risk of these types of missions, she let her field a few more. Each was a success.

So it wasn't long before towns outside the country's borders began petitioning Konoha as well.

They were the essentially the same requests, aid and possible enforcement of some trade regulations. But it was the fact that it was out of the Fire Country that gave Tsunade pause. There were inherent dangers out there, and different laws. Some areas did not smile on foreign nins, no matter how much their country paid for them to be there. Sakura would always have to be on guard. She would have to know when to be the smiling ambassador...and when to be the brutal ninja.

So one late-spring morning, tired of agonizing over it, Tsunade put the decision to Sakura.

The Hokage rolled the mission scroll in her hand, explained the request, what was expected of her, and what dangers she might face.

"I don't care about these other countries," she admitted after she'd explained every other aspect of the mission. "How they conduct their affairs is none of my concern. But our presence there, in a time of peace, strengthens our ties to these smaller countries. In short, Sakura, the benefit is not for money or Konoha's reputation, it is political."

Tsunade watched the young kunoichi closely. Sakura needed to understand exactly what was involved.

"Though the tasks are nearly identical to the ones you have already completed within Fire, there are any number of unknown dangers you might face in a border country."

Sakura nodded soberly, but wasn't backing down. Tsunade knew she wouldn't

"Do you think you can handle it?" the Hokage asked one last time, for her own sake.

"Of course!" Sakura returned with bright self-assurance. She was sure she could handle it.

Tsunade was pleased. If there was any hesitation, she would have withdrawn the assignment. But seeing Sakura's reaction, Tsunade knew she'd be fine.

So nearly overnight, Sakura's mission roster changed from checking up on Fire Country needs to being Konoha's armed emissary to other countries.

The summer days stretched out long and warm, and she enjoyed the travel. The first assignment went off without a hitch. And so had the second.

It was remarkable, she thought as she stood at the edge of a wood line and barley field, embarking on her third border-country mission, that she would be on her own, responsible, capable, and not a fear in the world.

The other two assignments had been interesting. The people she found were generally the same as her own countrymen, and the concerns were similar. She had yet to encounter any surprises. With any luck, this mission would turn out the same.

Letting the backpack sag off her hot shoulders, she scanned the road. Sakura seriously doubted she'd come across anyone out here who would pose a threat, but she knew how to handle it if she did. That old feeling, being vulnerable and alone, was a distant memory. After all, that had been two summers ago.

Sakura tried not to think about the rogue, afraid that somehow bringing him to mind would reveal something. But she wondered about him often enough when she didn't mean to.

She saw things so differently now. The towns and the people. She always checked her surroundings, watched her back. Even as she smiled and said hello, she was constantly sizing them up. Did it as second nature. She knew how to protect herself. And she knew it was because of him.

Sakura hoisted the pack back up on her shoulders, and curled her hair behind her ears. Pink locks sat hot and thick against her collarbone.

On the other side of the field, a trade road shimmered with heat, blazing silver-white in the noonday sun. The glare hurt her eyes, but she knew that was the road she needed to be on.

She sighed and set off, tromping over the yellow fields, leaving the cool shade of the trees behind.

Sakura had walked quite a while in the midday heat without seeing another soul, when the off-kilter cadence of a push cart echoed up the lane. Sure enough, an old farmer came trudging up in the distance.

Good, she thought, she was getting close to a town.

The old man must not have been expecting to see anyone either. Her footfalls were silent by nature, but he happened to glance up the lane and was completely startled to see another person.

He nearly jerked to a halt. The cart wobbled precariously. Steadying it quickly, he smashed his hat to his head as if it were going to blow away. But not even the wispy tops of the golden barley moved in the thick heat.

He straightened some to get a better look at her, hat still crushed to his head. Sakura had to turn away to keep from laughing at him.

Good thing she was a medic, she thought. She nearly gave him a heart attack.

When Sakura looked again, the old man was hunched back over his cart, rapidly closing the distance between them.

His arms were weathered and brown, and wrinkles sagged out past his floppy sleeves. The cart was rustic, and contained nothing of real value. She could hear the flop-flopping of his sandals as he got closer. Just an old farmer, she summed up.

Sakura lifted her eyes to nod a polite greeting as she passed, but found his gaze absolutely riveted to her. The battered straw hat was knocked back, revealing a wrinkled leather face. But the intensity of his look made her uncomfortable.

Catching her eyes, he grinned broadly at her.

He wasn't a threat, she thought, but maybe he was just an old pervert.

She nodded a greeting, but now with a much less friendly air.

She drew even with the old man and quickly shifted her eyes back to the road ahead. She didn't see, so she couldn't be sure, but she thought he didn't look away from her as she walked by.

She thought he might have turned his head and kept watching her as she passed. That ridiculous grin still plastered on his face.

Weird old man, Sakura thought. He's probably not seen a girl around here in years.

She was just chuckling to herself at the thought of that old man and how startled he was to see a pink-haired kunoichi, of all things, coming straight at him on an empty road, when she heard a crash a few paces behind her.

She thought she heard a curse, someone say "shit," but when she turned it was just the old man.

He was standing beside his overturned cart, looking sheepish and rubbing the back of his neck with his hand.

"Miss?" he said.

Maybe that's what she heard, Sakura thought, narrowing her eyes at him suspiciously.

"My back is so bad these day... Do you think you could help me..." he said, motioning to the pile of junk with a knobby brown hand. His strange, raspy voice dissolved in nervous laughter.

Sakura frowned. What a weirdo. But she couldn't just leave him there.

She glanced at the fields to either side of them. Wide and empty. Nothing else seemed amiss.

'The sooner I help him, the sooner I'm on my way,' she thought with a sigh.

So Sakura headed straight back up the lane toward the cart. He didn't move, only rubbed the back of his neck, watching her approach.

This was testing Sakura's patience.

Pushing the cart back up between them, Sakura bent to collect the strange assortment of items that had tipped out. An old rucksack, four or five pieces of fruit and a single cabbage, a few clods of dirt and old scraps of fabric, and a handful of old tools.

Sakura grabbed the things off the ground and dumped them back into the cart quickly. She was just leaning forward to drop the last tool in, a garden trowel that could have easily taken the place of a kunai, when the man's calloused fingers wrap around her wrist.

She glanced at the hand on her arm, getting really irritated now. But it blurred suddenly at the edge of her vision.

Her eyes widened with panic. A henge.

"Sakura," came a warm voice in front of her. She snapped her head up so quickly she nearly collided with the battered straw hat. But instead of the old farmer, she found herself looking into a smooth, young, very familiar face.

* * *

**Author's notes:**

Reworked two chapters into one because it simply flowed better to have Sakura's story bookended by Katsuro's story/presence. Flashbacks or timeskip stuff can be dreadfully boring. So hopefully writing it as vignettes strung together by seasonal references made it easier to read. The stuff with Gaara was to come later, but he had to come in with the chunnins, so that segment coupled with Katsuro's sections (which I'd thought would be in their own chapter), pushed the wordcount to astronomical proportions! So this chapter is a two-for-one! It's long, but I'm happy with it. It wraps up all two years and puts us back into the Naru/Saku storyline.

The little interactions with Gaara, Sasuke, Tsunade, etc., served two purposes. First and most obvious was to introduce characters, history and motives. Second was to give a sense of the great length of time that has passed and what Sakura has experienced. How she's grown. It's hard to read stories that jump forward with a "Meanwhile, in the future..." So I wanted to spend a single chapter on Sakura's growth. It makes her time with Katsuro that much sweeter.

Hope you enjoy. Thanks so much for all the great reviews and feedback, alerts and faves. It means so, so much. As always, there are a few more chapter notes at the website.

**

* * *

Chapter notes**

• Ages — so this chapter spans two years, and Gaara is in the first year, so he gets to be about 15. In the previous chapters, Sakura was around the 14 mark. And when this chapter winds up, they will all be around 16. No specifics, and I'm not going to go through the brain damage of who is younger and who is older. I'm just putting them all at the same age. Which also brings us up with their current ages in the manga. Makes for much easier visuals as you're reading.

• Gaara — Since I've removed Naruto from the Konoha storyline, Gaara has to have another catalyst for change. So instead of having him take pity on Sakura because she reminds him of someone, I've had Sakura become the agent of change through her kind treatment of him. She recognizes him as a person, an individual apart from the demon. And because of this he chooses to hold back a little and not kill her. Kakashi reinforces what she has set in motion by encouraging the siblings to care for their brother, help him. Thus the stage is set for him to gain control and eventually ascend to Kazekage. And he will return later as such. So, forgive the ooc-ness. I won't have too many scenes like this, where I remove Naruto then try to doing writing acrobatics to fill in the gaps. But I wanted to write about Gaara and this scene for Sakura, so it had to be done.

• How do you replace Naruto? — Why, with an unlimited supply of disposable ninjas, of course! So whatever he's been able to do single handedly, I will have a whole team taking on. It will take them longer, and most of them will get killed, but eventually they'll get the job done. Not an elegant solution, but it moves the story along quickly. Used here with Tsunade's retrieval and the Gaara fight.

• Hope the scene with Sakura and the sand was creepy enough. I get kind of bored with always reading the fight scenes when there are other aspects of the manga which are equally painful or horrifying. Getting stuck to a tree with blood-filled sand? Yep, that's pretty nightmarish to me. Hope it conveyed.

• Sasuke's reaction to Sakura being attacked — another difference with Naruto out of the picture. Sasuke is caught between being angry at Sakura and worried about her. Naruto was consumed with fear for her life.

• _And he vowed never to be anyone's weapon._ — Katsuro's personal thoughts go along with the Kakashi's words to Gaara and Sasuke's words to the council. All three are struggling to find their own ground with their insane power.

• _But Kakashi shook his head. "No, I think Sakura had the right idea."_ — Kakashi recognizing Sakura's choices and skill. Doesn't happen as much as I would like in the manga.

• _"Faked it," she said with a tired smile._ — Katsuro's advice carried her through that rough situation.

• _"I guess sometimes the answer can be right in front of you, but you just don't see it," Tsunade said._ — broad foreshadowing. Or a broad's foreshadowing. Works both ways! :)

• _On the other side of the field, a trade road shimmered with heat, blazing silver-white in the noonday sun. The glare hurt her eyes, but she knew that was the road she needed to be on._ — Did you catch it? White is the color cue for the beginning of an emotional arc.

* * *

A few reviewers have wondered how I'll go about replacing Naruto in the significant events like the fight with Gaara. So I addressed that one specifically in the chapter notes. And BukkakeNoJutsu, my hope is that Naruto will become more laidback and Naruto-ish in the coming chapters when he and Sakura have some freedom from their respective ties.

WatchingtheRain, Shai, Piper, animemistress, kimiss and eluviete, narutorocks and moldock, celious, cupcake, cerridwen and linkoot - thank you, thank you, thank you. Words fail me. And as much as you look forward to the chapters, I can't wait to hear what you guys think of them. ;)

lookoutthewindow and derhut, reading it in one sitting, I'm so glad you enjoyed the story! Lookout, glad you liked Sakura. I feel the same about her in the manga. There's a lot of her personality that's glossed over. Markim, Winter Knight and General 16, thanks so much

cnc917 - You're right about this story being in "sections," thought I'm not calling them as such. But there is a definite flow to the story line that warrants it. Glad you're picking up on it. And here's a hint: The chapters are named so you can go through the pulldown and get a general idea of the flow from the titles. It helps me as a reader and writer when I want to go back and read a small part of a long story (to me, numbered chapters or strangely named titles are harder to sort through). So the storyline between Sakura and Katsuro that began in the chapter entitled "Taken" is concluded in "Returned." (*whispers* The next chapter will have an open-ended title!)

FicsRLulz, thanks for your kind words. I like your thoughts on the yellow flowers, very much. Representing Naruto in the rubble of Itachi's making, and how he's thriving despite his hard life. And to take it further, Sakura is the one who uproots him, brings good change to his life. So thanks for your perception. When I was writing this chapter, I intentionally had them meet in the midst of a yellow/golden field, thinking of the color and what you mentioned about Naruto's perseverance. Not in a dark, shadowy forest, but meeting together somewhere bright and out in the open. Somewhere yellow, that is happy and free and corresponds to Naruto. It just fit perfectly! Thank you for the inspiration!

KungFu, I agree, Sasuke and Kakashi are so hard to write for. Too mean, and Sasuke becomes the assy character everyone loves to hate. Too careless, and Kakashi becomes just irrelevant to the story. You're right, Sasuke doesn't like change at all. Understandable. But I also think he doesn't like people to help him, to be better than him in some way. He truly doesn't need anyone, but the thought that he might, one day, must be terrifying. So I'm writing to that. The catalyst for change for him will be discovering that he needs a team (or someone else to rely on once in a while) and that they need him. Always enjoy your perceptive remarks!

juopunumies, thanks for the reviews! And good catch on the blonde/blond. Was writing it as hair color vs. wood color instead of feminine vs. masculine. Common mistake, I've since found, but pretty glaring just the same. Do you know how many times I would be destined to make that mistake in a story with Tsunade, Deidara and Naruto? Ack! So thanks! :)


	18. Whole

Chapter 18 - Whole

_"Sakura," came a warm voice in front of her. She snapped her head up so quickly she nearly collided with the battered straw hat. But instead of the old farmer, she found herself looking into a smooth, young, very familiar face._

Warm brown eyes shined at her. The corners of his mouth curled up into an easy smile.

"Ka-Katsuro?" she said in breathless astonishment. Her eyes, lit with recognition, darted across his features.

Where folds of skin had been before, his face was smooth and clear. The only lines now were the crinkles at the corners of his eyes, the happy side-effect of his bright smile.

Faint brown freckles mottled his cheeks and dusted his nose. His chestnut hair looked very much the same, just a little more unruly. Dark licks fell over his forehead, but the curls peeking out under the back of the straw hat were burnished gold by the midday sun.

Sakura looked back to his eyes. Still large and brown, nothing distinguishing. But they held a measure of warmth for her — just for her — that was comforting.

Even though she'd spent so much time trying to forget her experience, one look at him scattered her doubts.

He was happy to see her. Delighted. Thrilled. It was perfectly clear.

She swallowed dryly. She could feel her cheeks turning pink from the heat.

With growing certainty, she discovered she was happy to see him too. In spite of everything.

A soft smile curved her mouth before she could think to stop it.

Katsuro bit down on his bottom lip, trying to contain his widening grin. He could guess her thoughts.

Hand still curled around her wrist, Katsuro gently brushed her skin with his thumb. He was in as much disbelief as she was. And he held her arm as if making sure she were real.

The gentle sensation sent a shock wave through Sakura, though. It brought her back to reality.

She glanced over his ridiculous appearance, the shabby clothes and the strange gear. Something else was going on here. It chilled her, despite the suffocating heat, and her open expression closed.

Slipping her wrist from his grasp, Sakura stepped back and scoured the countryside. Her hand dropped reflexively to her thigh kunai.

"Oh no," Katsuro said quickly, waving his open palms at her. He leaned into the rickety cart, nearly toppling it over again.

"There's nobody else," he said, clamping a hand on the cart and jumbling his excuses. "I mean, it's just me..."

She scanned the field behind him as if he hadn't spoken, lips pinched, eyes sharp. She shifted her gaze to the road, the other fields, never turning her back on him.

"I mean," he began again, taking a breath and choosing his words a little more carefully. "Don't worry, I'm by myself. There is no one from my group with me. In fact, you're the only person I've seen all day."

Sakura stayed alert. He wasn't sure if she'd heard him. But after a moment, her shoulders eased. She slowly swung her gaze back to him.

Katsuro smiled broadly.

"I can't believe it's you," he breathed.

"You look so different," he continued, eyes dipping down in a way that made the corner of her mouth twitch with irritation.

"But I saw your hair right off," he said, dragging his gaze back up to linger at her collarbone, then moving slowly to the top of her head. "It's longer," he finally decided, smiling his approval, but he didn't break off his admiration.

Warmed by the sun, her hair moved just then in some slight, unseen breeze.

It stirred a vague memory.

There was a funny way Katsuro had about him, an undeniably reassuring presence. She relied on him in her darkest time, when hope was lost, and he had not failed her. She remembered feeling that, somehow, everything was going to be alright.

The memory sharpened, seemed to become tangible for a moment. Seeing him now, in front of her, it was as if time hadn't passed.

Fragrant summer air swirled warm around her, ruffling the hair at her throat.

All at once, she the had the feeling of being perfectly safe. She remembered him, right beside her, smiling, talking. His laughter rang in her ears.

For an instant, the sunlight dazzled, the air shimmered around them, and the barley field seemed to dissolve in a golden haze.

Blinking, Sakura shielded her eyes from the disorienting light, and the feeling ebbed with the passing shade. The breeze thinned to nothing. The subtle shimmer vanished from the fields.

And Katsuro still stood there, watching her, waiting patiently for some unknown response.

She grasped at the lost memory, but couldn't place it. It tantalized, staying just out-of-reach, like a forgotten dream.

Sakura frowned to herself. Was it the heat? A it trick of the light? Then another thought seared her.

'A genjutsu.'

Dropping her hand back to her side, she shot him a hard look.

'No,' she decided. Whatever she felt, he was oblivious to it. Katsuro simply grinned back at her.

Sakura drew in a deep breath to clear her mind, sure now that she had been out in the sun for entirely too long.

"Well? What about me?" Katsuro said in mock exasperation. He threw his arms out wide, flapping the ridiculous oversized jacket around him. "Do you think I've changed?"

"No," she said, chuckling in spite of her distracted feelings. "Not a bit."

"Yeah, I guess not," he said, laughing loud enough for both of them.

Sakura tucked away her smile. She should have known she'd see him again. Some time.

She glanced up the road, trying quickly to decide what to do. Should she stand and visit — did she really want to visit with him? — or should she just get on with her mission.

Her mission. She nearly groaned aloud. She certainly couldn't tell him.

Katsuro watched her from hooded eyes.

She had changed. Taller, longer, there was the hint of something feminine now. Not just that slip of neck. She seemed to exude it, in the way she stood. The way her arm draped over her stomach. The way her fingers wrapped gently around the loop of her kunai.

He drew a long breath, rubbed a callused hand over the back of his neck. Just seeing her was like throwing open a window.

Her hair was longer too, he noted, hanging just over the edge of her shoulders. The tips swung gently as she looked up the road.

It conflicted with the mental image he carried of her. He remembered her shorter locks, flipping up at the ends, feisty and careless. Defiant. But seeing her again, he realized it must have been a toll on her. They were dirty, sweaty and exhausted for most of their time together.

Now her hair was radiant. Deep rose locks at her neck softened to pale pink. A testament to hours in the sun. Just then, a curl fluttered loose from behind her ear. She tucked it back without thinking, but it wouldn't stay put. His mouth curved into a small smile.

The length changed her face a bit, made it seem longer, fuller, he thought. Or maybe it made her eyes seem bigger. But then again, maybe it wasn't her hair that had changed, but her. She _was_ two years older now.

He scratched distractedly at his smooth chin. He wondered if he looked more manly.

She turned back to him suddenly, pinning him with her green gaze. He forgot what he was thinking about.

Those eyes, he sighed inwardly. He felt a little exposed, remembering the last night, the shimmering genjutsu, memorizing her face...and those eyes.

There was just something about her, he decided. She was different. She looked at him, and he remembered feeling whole. Like the things he did mattered. Like he mattered.

Seeing her again, after so much time, brought up an ache within him, sharp and sweet. He'd never had a connection to anyone, except Itachi. But the way he felt about her, well there was no comparison. He'd never felt that way about anyone. He didn't have words for it. Was it friendship or something else?

He just knew he'd have done anything to pull her out of the hell of dying at Itachi's hands. Katsuro gritted his teeth at the memory. No, time had not diminished his resolve to protect his bond to her.

But that was in the past, he thought, relaxing the sudden tightness in his shoulders. He banished the dark thoughts.

She was here, in front of him among the sun-drenched fields — happy and confident, and safe. And it stirred completely new feelings. Made him yearn for things he couldn't have. More time, more freedom.

Katsuro's gaze drifted over her face, settled on her big green eyes, and he made a snap decision. He wasn't just going to let her walk away, disappear from his life again like that terrible night. No, he'd turn everything upside down to hold on to this a little longer.

"So...What are you doing out here," he blurted out. Sakura frowned suddenly, startled by his directness.

"I mean, this far out of the Fire Country?" he clarified.

She refused to answer.

"Oh," he said in slow understanding. "Are you on a mission or something?"

She raised an eyebrow, fixed a calculating look on him, but still said nothing.

"Are you going to the town, then?" he said, thumbing in the direction he just walked up from.

With a huff, Sakura looked away, glaring instead at the field beyond his opposite shoulder.

'He knows damn well where I'm was going,' she thought, irritated. But she wouldn't confirm it with even a glance up the road.

"It's ok, I understand," he quickly reassured. "You don't have to say anything." He leaned toward her, shifting the cart to a precarious angle.

"But," he said haltingly, "can I, at least, walk with you?"

His face held such a mix of uncertainty and hope as he looked up at her, that Sakura was completely thrown.

"W-What?" Had she heard him right?

"If you're going that way, can I walk with you? "

Sakura gaped at him until faint pink blotches stained his cheeks.

"But you were—" she stumbled over her words, pointing back the other way.

"I don't have anywhere else to be," he said, straightening, throwing his hands back with a broad grin.

The sudden movement pitched the cart away, and it took every bit of his honed reflexes to keep it from toppling again. He darted forward and caught the crumbling wooden side with his fingertips before the contents lurched out.

Hands firmly on the cart, Katsuro raised back up and flashed Sakura another bright, disarming smile.

She frowned back, but her good reasoning had already abandoned her.

She'd be lying if she said she hadn't wondered about him. She trusted him once. And here he was, right in front of her, making it seem so easy to trust him again.

Katsuro watched her with glittering brown eyes. He rocked forward lightly on the balls of his feet, waiting, hopeful. She sighed.

"Well, just for a little while," she said slowly. What was she thinking.

But he beamed at her. And she found she had to bite the inside of her lip to keep from smiling back.

In an instant he wheeled his cart around and fell into step beside her.

They walked side-by-side, in silence. She stole a glance at him. He still looked just as she remembered him. Perhaps a little taller, but very much the same. Except for that silly grin. That was new. But she remembered him to be naturally happy. Energetic. Even now, walking back into the town he just came from, in the blazing heat. It didn't even faze him.

'This is crazy,' she told herself. 'He's also in a disguise. With a cart full of weapons.'

What _was_ she thinking.

He's a rogue ninja. Working for Itachi. If anyone saw her with him, made the connection... This had to stop.

She halted suddenly and turned to face him. Katsuro unwittingly mirrored her actions.

"I—" they both began at the same time. Sakura pressed her lips into a thin line while he smiled even wider. When she didn't continue, he did.

"I had hoped to see you again. Just to see you, make sure you got home ok. I didn't know... But here you are, out on your own. Now, I can not only see you but talk to you too, at least for a little while." His smile faded. "But you were going to say something."

Sakura was speechless. Her line to throw him off was a jumble.

"I was..." she refocused her gaze to look him in the eyes.

"I, uh..." but she faltered again. His eyes were bright, taking in her face. He tipped his head, studying her unabashedly. She paused, regrouped, and pushed her lips together.

"What?" he said, softly, expectantly.

He was nothing like the rogue shinobi she remembered him to be. He acted as if they were old friends, catching up.

She knew it wasn't a lucky break that she escaped from Itachi. Katsuro had laid everything on the line to help a prisoner. When her own team hadn't come for her, he was the teammate she'd never had.

Teammates. Was that the feeling that she blamed herself for these past two years? The guilt she couldn't quite seem to shake?

She had forged a bond with an enemy nin when she couldn't even find it with the ones she was supposed to protect. It was why she was out here by herself in the first place.

She shook her head and looked down, smiling ruefully at her own discomposure. He grinned, tipping his head toward the sky to laugh softly at their awkwardness.

This little act drew from her the first real smile.

She knew he didn't understand what she felt, but his kindness reminded her that her trust had not been misplaced.

It was the same reasoning she relied on in her captivity, hoping his good nature would persevere. And in the end, he didn't let her down.

Well, if she could trust him as an enemy in an enemy camp, she told herself, she could probably handle a brief walk with him on an empty road.

Finally having come to some decision, she looked back with a smooth countenance.

"I can only go with you to the edge of town," she said with a serious tone, "then we have to part ways."

"Yes, of course," he replied with wide eyes. "And if anyone approaches I'll do my best farmer imitation and limp off."

Accepting the compromise, she began walking again when the next obstacle presented itself. What would they talk about?

But her worry was only momentary, Katsuro fired off questions about her shinobi life, medic and defense training. She could only get in a quick response before he would jump to another question with a, "Hey, what about..."

Sakura was lightly amused until he asked about her emotional wellbeing with her bastard teammate and the other one... Katsuro stopped there, scrunched up his face and scratched his head in thought.

"What was his name... The robot!" he said finally.

Sakura burst out laughing before she could stop herself. Katsuro just grinned as wide as the sky.

"How do you remember these things?" she said, slanting her eyes at him with a smile.

"I told you, I've wondered about you," he returned easily.

She sighed. She could not say the same. When she had thought about him, he was still frozen in those moments when he encouraged her. Cooling off after sparring or sharing water at the mossy well. She remembered his face, illuminated by firelight from their evening talks. But she had no sense of what he did before or would do after her time with him.

"What about you? What have you done?" she refocused.

"Nothing much to tell," he shrugged and looked out across the yellow field. "I just follow orders."

The dusty road blurred under her feet. She remembered now, why she had no other frame of reference for him: He never offered her any information about himself. The few times she had the presence of mind to ask, he carelessly deflected the questions and returned the focus back on her. Now, in a much less desperate state of mind, that disparity of information stood out.

This was exactly what she expected of a shrewd nin, not the easy friend he presented himself as. She wanted to scratch beneath the surface, see which was real.

Poised to ask about his life since their parting, Sakura heard Katsuro's voice instead of her own.

"This is where I have to leave you," he said, attention fixed wistfully on the curving road ahead of them.

"What?" She looked up, frowning. Were they here so soon?

"Around this bend the road narrows, then opens up and allows for a wide view from the town," he said. "It wouldn't be safe to continue."

'How convenient' she thought darkly. The bubble burst. The old feeling of distrust seeped in. 'He is a shinobi of course. No answers from him and everything from me'.

There were a million reasons why he could be there, and she knew not a single one of them. He knew, however, many details about her. She turned back to him, silently defensive.

"I've been here several times before," he reassured. "Errands," he said, rolling his eyes. "Mostly at night, though." Katsuro turned back to look down the road, thinking.

Sakura didn't turn her gaze away from him, instead studying his silhouette in case she had to identify him at night.

Suddenly Katsuro lifted his hand, signaling something. He looked sharply up the road. Listening hard. His easy demeanor evaporated.

She heard it too. A piercing sound, growing closer.

But whatever was the source, it was no threat to her. This was the road she was meant to be on. _She_ was not the one in disguise here.

Sakura watched Katsuro. She couldn't deny that his alertness was strangely comforting. This was the rogue she remembered. Calculating, aware. The one who was almost always on edge.

She had forgotten about the one who was friendly, made jokes. Helped her get stronger. Said he wouldn't leave her.

No, that wasn't entirely true. She hadn't forgotten, she had just tucked it into a dark corner of her mind. And hoped that no one else would ever find out what he had done to help her. And, even more damning, how very much it had meant to her.

Just then, two birds whistled through the air above them. Dipping and swerving, one let out the odd, shrill sound they'd heard.

Katsuro knocked his hat back and watched them arc over the field, out of sight.

"False alarm!" He smiled, free from concern.

She watched the transformation on his face and smiled back. Once the danger passed, he was the easygoing friend again.

Everything about him came back in full force. The uncanny ability to be good natured and highly suspicious at the same time. There was always a fight, but he never gave up hope. This was how she had made it through.

The two years just ran away. And underneath it all, the pull of friendship remained intact, unchanged. He was still asking her to trust him, and she found, to her guilt, she still wanted to.

A jingle sounded from down the road, beyond the bend. This time, it was unmistakeable. Someone was approaching.

Katsuro's happy facade disappeared again. He studied her face, then seemed to come to some decision.

"Listen, how long are you here for?" he asked directly.

She frowned. She wouldn't answer him.

"Are you meeting someone there, then?"

Her feelings were confusing enough, but his obvious fishing for information roiled her. He must think she was that same weak girl from the forest. Well she wasn't.

Her anger finally spurred her to act. She was a Konoha kunoichi on a solo mission. If he thought she was anything less, then it was time to move on.

She turned on her heel to leave.

"Wait," he grabbed for her arm, the cart teetered again. He propped it against his leg, stepping closer to her. The jingling sound was growing steadily louder. Katsuro lowered his voice.

"You don't have to tell me anything, ok?" he said quickly. "I don't care what you're doing here. It doesn't matter to me."

Desperation seeped into his voice.

"I— I just want to see you again," he said softly.

Reflexively, Sakura sought out his eyes. The look she found there stole her breath.

It wasn't calculated or carelessly friendly. He looked more like a lost kid than a hardened shinobi. He was vulnerable, exposed.

Sakura had a feeling this was the part of him that know one saw. But that she alone would understand. He was revealing his softest heart, where his hopes were tied inextricably to his fears.

He just wanted to see her again. For anyone else it would be such a simple request.

Warm brown eyes watched her, waiting for any sign.

But nothing in Katsuro's life was easy, no matter how effortless he made it seem. She had seen firsthand what he had to persevere through, everyday. It was kill or be killed, from all sides. He dismissed it a 'just following orders,' but she knew that ultimately he was alone.

Her life was nothing like his. But she understood how he felt, and knew exactly why he was reaching out to her. He wasn't alone in that, at least.

She felt the same. She had never met anyone else like him, either.

Sakura swallowed thickly, suddenly aware of just how warm his hand was on her arm. She tore her gaze away and looked up the road, biting her lip.

Katsuro seized on her indecision — that was sign enough for him — and pushed her gently.

"If you're here, on your own..." he let the thought hang in the air and he studied her profile.

She blinked slowly, but didn't stop him. He had guessed right.

"Then, you tell me when and where to meet you, and I'll be there."

The jingle edged closer, accompanied now by the slow but steady crunch of wheels.

"That's impossible, I—" but one glance at his hopeful expression, and she broke off. The corners of his mouth edged up. She knew she didn't sound very convincing.

"Just to hang out a little longer, that's all," he reassured, lightly dragging his thumb across her skin as he spoke. "I want to know about what's happened in your life. Nothing else. Promise."

"I really shouldn't—" she began, but he was smiling into her face. He knew, as she did, that her resolve was weakening. "It's foolish," she hissed back warningly. "Dangerous."

But he beamed at her, giving her arm a final squeeze before letting go.

"Come out for a walk, tonight," he said as he stepped away, pulling the cart with him. "On the road west of town, across the fields, I'll wait there."

Wait..." she said. The rolling noise was closing in on them. "I don't know if I can..."

"I'll wait for you," he said, grinning, backing down the road. "And if you don't come tonight, I'll meet you the next!"

She shook her head trying to disagree, but he called back, "I'll come every night if I have to!"

"Wait..." she whispered, but he was too far, and the sound was almost upon her.

She glanced down the road finally — 'Any minute now,' she thought, gauging the sound — then back again at Katsuro. From a dip in the road he shot her a delighted silly grin over his shoulder, then disappeared.

Sakura turned back just as a wrinkled old man slowly rounded the corner with his own cart and goat. He bobbed his head without stopping. She drew a deep, calming breath, and nodded back.

Around the next bend, the road rolled away from Sakura just as he described it. It dropped down into a shallow valley of fields and farmers shanties before winding up to the gates of a hillside town.

"So much for 'no surprises'" she thought, ignoring the fluttery feeling in her stomach that had nothing to do with her mission.

But she had a job to do. She'd think about Katsuro, and his request, later.

* * *

The fine silk robes of the innkeeper were at odds with most of the ramshackle town. He pointed toward a building, expounding on some historical detail. A creamy sleeve floated along with him.

But Sakura was not nearly as impressed as he was. Clapboard from the building stuck out at so many angles it gave Sakura the uneasy feeling that it was going to snag the fluid silk.

To her eyes, most of this hillside town was the same. Two-story buildings and shabby huts jostled for space along the narrow paths that staggered down the slope. Laundry zig-zagged between the cantilevered buildings. And the sharply-angled paths hid more of the dust and debris from the view of travelers.

But merchants or locals, no one could miss it. The broad trade road arced over the middle of the slope, dividing the town cleanly and gave perfect views of both worlds.

The innkeeper pointed to another sight above the road, anxious to draw the kunoichi's attention away from the less desirable aspect of their community.

Though fewer in number than their down-slope neighbors, the upper paths were orderly and trim, with manicured two-story residences and shops standing politely shoulder to shoulder. No signs of a hard-scrabble life there. Only hanging lanterns and potted plants dotted the gray lanes. Even the cat lolling beneath a canary cage seemed to be on his best behavior, with nary a glance at the caged morsel swinging from the porch above him.

The inn and adjoining shop had pride of place in the center of town, nearest the gate, fronting the trade road. It straddled the line between new and old, merchants and farmers, wealth and abject poverty.

Which was why she was here.

The innkeeper glanced down the steep path, mild distaste creeping across his expression. He smoothed a hand over his already smooth long black hair. But nothing had escaped the tight knot at the back of his neck.

He was young for an innkeeper, she thought. Maybe a little more than ten years her senior. But he was anxious to impress any client. Even a hired kunoichi. But it was a waste of both of their time.

"Your town is lovely. But, if you could take me to your warehouses," she prompted, "then I could determine where to start."

"Ah, yes, of course," he said with renewed congeniality.

They continued down the wide road as it skirted the gradual decline of the hillside.

The innkeeper-merchant had requested a shinobi to look into some theft of goods from his warehouses. Food, supplies, she remembered reading in the mission scroll. Costly silks, she assumed now.

Her task was to train a handful of men to protect the stock. And it was implied that she would do her best to find the source of the trouble. But that was not required to consider this job a success.

However she was quickly discovering that nothing on this mission was what it appeared.

"So, do you think you can discover who is stealing from us?" he said, face alight with the mere thought.

Sakura shook her head as they arrived at the unassuming building.

"My main objective here is to train your men to protect your merchandise," she reminded him as she peered at the rickety door. She rattled the lock but it was solid, and the mechanism held fast.

"Oh not _my_ merchandise," he said.

"What?" Sakura said, straightening. Then what exactly was she here for.

She stepped back as he produced a key and wiggled it into the lock.

"These are the food stores for the inn," he said, throwing back the wooden door, "as well as winter provisions for the town."

Cool, dank air poured out of the doorway. Sakura looked around him to see only steps dropping into darkness. He fumbled for a lantern and stepped confidently down into the black. Sakura gingerly followed, giving her eyes time to adjust.

Out of the dimness came a room that looked like part root cellar, part market stand. Fresh fruits and vegetables stood ready to be served, packed into broad trays, perfectly preserved in the coolness. Behind and underneath the tables were crates and barrels, some with lids, some draped in rough linens. Potatoes, cabbages, carrots and other foodstuffs that would last into the winter months poked out from under the fabric.

"Wow," she said. The man smiled, proud of their accomplishment.

Sakura looked back up the steps. They were nearly a full level below the street. If someone was stealing from here then—

"Not again," he wailed.

Sakura turned to see what caught his attention. A lone peach sat on the earthen floor. It had obviously rolled off the top of a neatly arranged tray of fruit.

"I was just here this morning, and nothing was out of place," he said, exasperated. He scooped up the peach and turned back to Sakura who stood unmoving.

"They've struck again," he said, shaking the fruit in one hand as if it were hard evidence.

Sakura frowned at the scene. Was she missing something?

In a whirl of sleeves, the man ducked under the offending peach tray and pulled out two covered baskets. He flipped the fabric back, revealing the empty spaces they concealed. The linen had been artfully arranged to make them look full.

"And a third," he said, pointing to a ring smudged on the dirt floor. Nothing else appeared out of place. That basket was gone.

Three bushel baskets full of food was no small thing to just walk off with. Someone would either need lots of help or a cart—

Sakura's stomach clenched at the memory of Katsuro. The disguise. The cart. But she'd seen everything he was carrying when he tipped the cart over in the road. Just a bunch of garden tools and only a few pieces of old food.

'It wasn't him,' she thought with relief.

Schooling her thoughts, Sakura looked sharply at the light-flooded doorway, then scanned the edges of where the roof should meet the walls. There were a few thin slants of light, but nothing more.

"That door is the only way in and out of here?" she quizzed him. "There are no other entrances?"

"No," he said, stacking the buckets up next to a growing stack of empty ones. "And I am the only one who has the key."

He silently counted up the lost bushel baskets, then wrung his hands.

"They are so silent, so crafty," he said, shaking his head. "To slip in and steal and leave without a trace," voice rising as his mind raced ahead. "Our town must be the target of roving ninjas!" he said with a fist.

Sakura's face went slack.

"Not you, of course," he backpedaled instantly, both palms out. "They could be bandits, rogues...anyone, really."

"Yes," Sakura intoned dryly. "It could be _anyone_. Please keep that in mind."

They climbed back into the heat in silence. He snapped the lock over the door while Sakura looked around the building. The roof butted up against another on one side, but there were no signs of a break-in. She checked the lock again, the hinges. All were free of tampering.

"I meant no offense, Sakura-san," he said, wringing his hands under the long cream sleeves as they continued down the dusty road. "Ninjas are well-respected here, and we are very grateful you have come to our aid."

Sakura looked off to the buildings as they passed. It didn't matter to her what he thought, she'd do her job regardless of his opinions, misinformed or otherwise.

But he continued to study her, good businessman that he was, looking for a sign she had accepted his apology.

Catching his look, Sakura bit back an exasperated sigh and nodded slowly that she was not offended.

"I am sorry," he said quietly, motioning her over to a stone water trough under a clump of shade trees.

A rock-lined channel brought fresh water rolling through the town. Sakura followed it's quicksilver trail as it disappeared behind the splintering brown edge of a building.

But where they stood, it pooled into a shallow basin. Water burbled down from a bamboo spigot, and small bamboo cups dried upside-down on spiked twigs, waiting for the next thirsty traveler.

He filled two cups while he spoke.

"Sometimes I get carried away. I want so much for our little town, and we hear many rumors. You are right. It could be anyone."

Sakura accepted the offered cup, placated more by his candid words than by the water.

"Rumors? About ninjas?"

He laughed nervously, looking sheepish. "No, not ninjas, exactly" he said.

"There is a rumor that some of the farmers have been approached for trade with some of the larger towns. Offered more coin. It has them all talking."

"If a few farmers can make a little extra money, then what's the harm in it. You seem to have more than enough," she said, motioning back to his supply building.

"No, but if our biggest producers restrict their trade to other sources, our community will suffer. Higher prices will drive the smaller farmers out of business."

He looked to Sakura, who only nodded politely, and rephrased what he was saying.

"It is not something that is a concern to a larger village like Konoha. Changes like crop sales happen slower and are closely monitored. But this...," he said, waving a hand at the lower hillside. "We are a farming town. If we loose our biggest suppliers, well, only a few get wealthy. Everyone else suffers."

She nodded, taking his reasoning seriously now. It helped that his voice was free of any condescension. He was speaking to her as an equal. That courtesy alone raised her opinion of him greatly.

"If that happened," he continued, "our town would be no longer self-sufficient. We would become the work horse, yoked to another. And it would be the work of a moment," he snapped his fingers, "to fall under someone else's rule."

Sakura tipped her head, trying to parse out a deeper meaning, an underlying current to all this speculation.

"Konoha" he nodded meaningfully at the kunoichi, "is the protection under which all the Fire Country towns thrive. But we," he tipped his open hand toward the ramshackle buildings "have no protection.

"One small slip can easily lead to a bigger fall," he added gravely.

The innkeeper had Sakura's full attention. She set the empty cup down and peered at him.

If true, then these were serious allegations. Fragile alliances were made and broken over trade disputes.

"And this is actually happening? Your farmers have been propositioned? You know these things for a fact?"

He laughed nervously again.

"No," he said slowly. "I was hoping maybe you had heard something."

Drawing a hand to her forehead, Sakura closed her eyes and shook her head, irritated with herself for getting swept up in his worrying.

"So what does all this have to do with the pilfering of a basket of food from your food stores?"

"It is happening with alarming regularity," he said, voice raised a notch. "By diminishing our food stores, come winter, we will have to rely on another town. We would be vulnerable. And word is already spreading that we are the target of thieves—"

Sakura put her hand up. Her mind was swirling with this nonsense.

The man had leapt from a petty crime to international espionage.

"You have put a lot of thought into this. It is obvious you care about your town a great deal," she said charitably. "But I am only here to help you protect it."

He nodded gratefully and swallowed whatever last words he'd planned, realizing at last that he'd gotten a little carried away.

"Now, do you have a militia? Of any kind?" she continued.

He shook his head.

"Anyone with any shinobi training?"

Another shake.

"Any defensive training? At all?"

"No," he smiled. "We are just a farming community, a very small town. Many of our citizens have never even seen a shinobi," he said, glancing up at a few of the villagers who had stopped to gawk at her. She nodded politely and they hurried on.

"We'll start tomorrow," she said with professional efficiency. "Tell your volunteers to meet me here, and I'll see what we have to work with."

"They're farmers, you know," he said haltingly.

"I know. But anyone can learn to protect themselves," she said. He looked skeptical. "Simply their presence here will be the biggest deterrent," Sakura rejoined. "But if they ever have to face someone, they'll know what to do."

"It may be for only a few hours each day," he said apologetically. "They're farmers. There is no one else to do their work."

She bit back a sigh and stood up, dusting her overskirt.

"Well, I have three days. I'll do my best." Maybe she'd use the rest of the time to find the criminal herself.

"Good. Excellent," he said, standing as well.

A rag-tag group of children scampered out into the dusty road, anxious to see the newcomer.

"Are there any areas that are off-limits to me or any areas that I should be aware of?"

"Well, as you can see, this area is mainly residences of the farming families..."

But Sakura's attention was distracted. A young girl in the group rubbed a swollen hand across her face. Livid marks streaked up her forearm, but the puffiest places were starting to ooze.

Sakura cocked her head and squinted for a better look. From her distance, she judged it to be a burn, but it was quite infected.

Seeing her interest, the children bounded off.

Sakura made a mental note of her appearance before returning her full attention to the man. Maybe after she found the criminal, she'd track down that little girl.

"Tradesmen and their families live along the higher side," the innkeeper said, sweeping a fluttering cream sleeve past the nicer part of town to end pointing down the long, broad road on which they stood.

"And the of course, this road runs on to the west, out past the gates and down through the barley fields," he said. "It's our main trade route."

Sakura swallowed dryly. That little piece of information — the western road, the barley field — yeah, she already knew about that.

The kunoichi wheeled around suddenly.

"Then tell me about where this part of the road leads," she said, pointing down the hill.

She wanted to put some distance between herself and that whole side of the town.

"Do you think it might be important?" he said hopefully.

Actually, yes she did.

"If someone is hauling food from your warehouse," she said, "they will need a route to escape by. A busy trade road would do no good." She pointed to the narrowing road which pitched past the rickety buildings. "Who travels on this part?"

"Ah," he said. "Just farmers. Workers," he said nodding in understanding. "The next town is quite far. So ours is the end of the road for merchants. Beyond here it is nothing more than a foot path."

Then that was where she would focus on.

"And when do these thefts occur?"

"Most times at night, but a few during the day."

Sakura frowned. That changed everything. If someone was brazen enough to haul off food during the day, then it had to be one of their own.

"Do you think you have some ideas then?" he looked at her wide-eyed.

She blinked back at him. Yes? No.

She couldn't tell him that he'd wasted his precious money on her.

Just a little diligence on their part and they'd probably caught their thieving neighbor. But, she reminded herself, this was a town virtually on it's own, with no support, and not a single defensive person among them.

Their own country wouldn't spare a thing for them. She cast her eye down the dirt streets, the clapboard fronts. Like so many of the ones she'd seen on other missions outside of the Fire Country. Hard working people with very hard lives. It probably cost them dearly to get a Konoha shinobi on a mission.

Well, she'd make sure they got their money's worth.

She formed a quick plan: If the men could only give her half-days, then she'd spend the rest of the time tending to any medical needs.

And the mere presence of a shinobi would repair their tarnished reputation, whether she caught anyone or not.

"No, I don't have any ideas as to who it might be," she said truthfully. He looked crestfallen. "But maybe I can help you find out who it is."

"Good. Wonderful!" he said, cheered.

"And the whole town is open to your inspection," he said generously sweeping his arms wide. "From the eastern farms to the western road. Day or night!"

Sakura tried to smile, but it felt more like a grimace. The fluttery feeling in her stomach returned at the mention of the road, night time. If Katsuro wasn't a rogue, she would have sworn he and the innkeeper were in league against her sanity.

"Thanks," she muttered.

He returned to his inn, and Sakura was left to her own devices for a while. She went straight down the hill, along the narrowing trade road, toward the shabbiest rows of houses.

She didn't think they were the target of highway men. Probably some locals pilfering from an already full reserve, she decided as she reached the paling on the eastern end of the village.

The crops there were a ragged patchwork, lined with broken boards and thin strings. The broad trade road dwindled to nothing but a goat path along the edge of one barren field.

Sakura squatted down and scooped up a handful of dust beside the paling, letting it slip through her fingers slowly in the late afternoon light.

Poor farmers, a burgeoning upper class. She shook her head.

They should never have wasted their money on her. It was nothing more than fantasy to think that some black-masked men were swooping in and stealing portions of their food reserves then making a clean get-away.

She stood, dusted her hands and looked back at the rickety buildings that edged the lowest part of the hill. A sudden movement between two buildings up the hill drew her attention. She stilled, waited and watched.

Slowly, several little heads poked out again. Large eyes peered at her for only a moment, but Sakura recognized one of the smudged faces. It was the girl with the burned arm.

They hovered at the edge of the building for only a second more before ducking back beyond it's edge.

But Sakura wasn't going to let her get away this time.

Moving swiftly, she made it to the narrow alley just in time. Peering into the darkness, she caught a glimpse of the scampering children as they rounded a far corner. Their giggles ricocheted off the close walls.

Sakura stepped over a narrow plank, propped sideways to keep rain runoff out of the alley, and picked her way up the thin space. She moved carefully, skirting the rubbish piled against the buildings and the fetid water pooled in the middle. Laundry strung from the upper levels of the buildings dimmed any sunlight, and the air was stale. But Sakura kept going, following the laughter.

Winding around a few more corners, the alley dead-ended suddenly. The back ends of buildings abutted at strange angles, leaving a pitiful courtyard of sorts. Nestled against one of the windowless structures was a tumbledown shack.

Constructed almost entirely of reclaimed wood, Sakura would have thought it was a storage shed. But the young boy squatting beside the door, the group of children squealing, tearing off to disappear behind the shack, told a different story.

The boy stood quickly, dropping everything from his lap. He clutched a knife, and was only just able to pitch a familiar piece of fabric over a basket next to him before Sakura settled her heel and took a tentative step into the clearing.

The kunoichi narrowed her eyes, processing the scene.

On the ground beside him was a long carrot. A streak of orange gleamed from where the outer grime had been shaved away.

Sakura shifted her eyes. Tips of more carrots stuck out from the basket, reaching out under the corner of the linen like spindly fingers. On the ground beside it was a fat potato.

She cut back to the boy. He was slowly shifting his foot to hide the carrot. The knife was no longer held to cut but gripped in a threatening fashion.

He made a fist with his other hand and gave her what she thought must be his most intimidating glare.

Sakura relaxed her stance.

'Looks like I've found my thief,' she thought with satisfaction.

"What do you want, outsider," he snarled.

At first glance, she didn't think the boy was much older than the other children. But now, she thought he might be a few years older, maybe 11 or 12. His hair was unkempt, his clothes were ragged, and the dark circles around his eyes bore the unmistakeable sign of malnutrition.

Sakura ran through the scenarios. If this boy was the culprit, and he was still this bad off, then he was stealing the food and not eating it. Perhaps he was stealing it for someone else. Or perhaps he was the only one in charge of that band of children she'd seen earlier. It would explain why they all looked so uncared for. She remembered something.

"I'm a medic. I was looking for a little girl that had a hurt arm," she said, omitting all other reasons for now. "Have you seen—"

"No," he barked. "She's not here. Go away." With that, the boy ducked inside the dark shack and slammed the rickety door.

Sakura stood in the silence, left alone in the forgotten space behind the buildings. Nothing moved, nothing breathed. But she knew she wasn't alone. She could almost feel the small eyes on her, even though she had no idea where they were hiding.

Sighing, she picked her way back up the dank alley, thinking about how to proceed.

She would go on with the training of the farmers, as requested in her mission brief. But she'd also try to find that girl with the burn. Maybe with a little coaxing she could get some answers.

She walked slowly back up the road in waning light. She had three days to figure it out.

She got back to the inn at the center of town, and looked westward at the trim houses and broad lane. Her stomach tied in a knot at the thought of meeting Katsuro out there.

It was too dangerous, she told herself soberly as she slid the door back. But the image of him in the golden field, brown eyes beseeching her with a look that left a hollow ache in her chest, appeared unbidden before her.

She pushed it out of her mind, and slid the door closed firmly. No, she simply couldn't do it, she declared to herself.

Dropping her dusty boots beside the door, Sakura retreated to her room. She washed her hands and face in the little basin. But that task was finished all too soon.

Before she had time to worry about how to keep her mind occupied, an attendant appeared at the paper screen door, gently telling her that her company was requested by the innkeeper for dinner.

Of course, she thought, relieved. Normally tedious, now she welcomed a few hours of grandiose history about a forgotten town. She smiled brightly and followed the woman downstairs.

But her bubble of happiness burst when she entered the room. He smiled and flung back his silk arm to show her the low table laden with gorgeously prepared dishes...and the shoji doors thrown open wide to view the sunset.

Sakura immediately lost her appetite. But she plastered on a smile and folded her knees under the table.

"Tell me about your afternoon? How did you get on?" he asked.

He poured her tea, and listened as she recounted her afternoon.

She would speak, but she wouldn't look at the sunset.

She didn't want to see the way it melted golden into the barley. The way the thin blue strip of trees the edged into line of the horizon, growing longer, deeper, bluer, with the setting sun. Was he there now? Waiting? No. He said he would come later. He's probably—

"Is the food not to your liking?" The innkeeper's deeply concerned voice burst through her distracted thoughts.

"Oh! No, it is fine," Sakura fumbled. Without even noticing, she had pushed the artfully carved pieces of food around her plate but never eaten them.

She popped a carrot rosette in her mouth, whole. "Delicious!" she said around it.

"Please tell me more about your town," she said, forcing herself to eat another delicate item. "It's fascinating."

She half-listened, instead looking over the dishes. The food that someone labored over just to make this meal, that she was sent to protect, that was in all likelihood being stolen by children who were desperately hungry.

The food that she was now too nervous to eat, she thought with chagrin.

But she managed to get enough down to please the innkeeper.

Blue shadows were slipping over the yellow tatami mats by the time she made it back to her room. She wished she hadn't eaten anything at all. It only made the knot in her stomach worse.

She told herself she wasn't going to meet Katsuro, but she couldn't bring herself to take off her clothes and go to bed.

Sakura laid down, thinking it might make her feel better, but no sooner was she comfortable than she thought movement would do the trick. She paced the room, inspecting every panel, every scroll, every crack, then flopped back on her bedding.

But she could feel the tug, through the stillness, and the silence. He was waiting for her. Out there.

She rolled on her side and squeezed her eyes shut.

Outdoors. She couldn't deny that the thought of having a breath of cool night air was alluring, just to escape the oppressive calm of the room for a little while. Organize her thoughts.

She pushed off the mats and bounded out of her room and down the steps to the front door, but one look at her dusty boots, made her stomach flip. What was she thinking? He was out there. He might see her...did she want that?

What did she want?

She stood at the bottom of the steps, looking across the entrance hall at the boots. The thought of going back up to her room was suffocating. But going out was terrifying. Or thrilling. She couldn't decide. And it didn't matter. The physical response was the same. Sick stomach, sweaty hands, pacing.

Maybe she would walk to the water trough. Get some water, see if the children — or thieves — were about. Go in the opposite direction of the western gate. That might work...

The jittery feeling was clouding her judgement, she thought wryly. Making her think that taking a walk, hours after the sun had gone done, in a foreign town, with bandits and/or children on the loose, was a _great_ idea. Really. Just what she needed.

The sudden woosh of a screen door jolted Sakura from her thoughts.

"Is everything alright?" The innkeeper said as he stepped from an ante room. Concern was etched into his smooth face.

Sakura cringed, struggling for an explanation. But he excitedly anticipated her.

"Oh, are you going out to do some nighttime investigating?" he whispered melodramatically. He was clearly delighted with that prospect. He had completely forgotten her mission was to train, not solve this "crime."

"I— I think I will go out for a walk," her stomach seized. She'd used Katsuro's very words. "No! Not a walk! I mean..." she gulped. But she started again, trying to project more calm than she felt. "Yes, I will be doing some nighttime investigating."

His eyes lit up.

"Wonderful! Take as much time as you need," he said, sliding the heavier exterior door back. Cooler night air spilled in. He stepped out to light the lantern for her.

She nodded her thanks, quickly retrieved her hip pack, slipped on her boots and was out the door.

Alone, gravel crunching under foot, Sakura sighed into the air, feeling like constraints had been thrown off. This was better. She did have a job to do, after all.

Sakura walked part way down the silent hill to the warehouse. She inspected the building, rattled the lock, but everything was the way they'd left it hours before.

Sakura scanned the town, peaceful under the hush of nightfall. Shadows smoothed out the rough edges of the mismatched buildings. Only yellow lights pricked out of the darkness. But there was no movement, no other sound than the distant burbling of water. Everything appeared to be at rest.

Sakura looked back up the hill, a familiar nervousness settling in her stomach.

With this task finished, she had nothing left to do but return to the inn. She sighed and began moving, slowly.

But she was cresting the hill sooner than she thought possible. She came to a stop before the soft pool of light from the inn.

Ahead of her the road was broad and blue. Golden pools of light fell in an orderly pattern from the neatly arranged houses above the trade road.

And somewhere beyond he was out there. Waiting for her.

Sakura glanced at the inn. The thought of going back inside made her feel trapped.

Well, if she was going to stay out here, she told herself bracingly, then the road at her feet was all that was left for her. She had to go west.

Sakura shook off her anxiety. She was a damned kunoichi. Just because she walked in one direction or another didn't meant anything.

She walked slowly down the wide road, stepping in and out of the squares of light, telling herself it was just a walk, nothing more.

But by the time she came to the last building on the western end of town, her heart was pounding in her ears.

Sakura paused in the only remaining pool of light, body illuminated.

'This is it,' she thought and stepped out of the tidy golden square. One foot, then the next.

Around the corner of the building, a sweeping vista was slowly revealing itself.

The road hung there on the knoll, above rolling fields of barley. Fields stretched away from the hillside in all directions, punctuated only here and there by a clump of dark trees.

Sakura moved without thinking to the weathered stone marker that stood in lone sentinel beside the road. Letting her hand rest atop the waist-high stone, Sakura followed the line of the road as it tumbled away before her. It gradually narrowed, a wavering thin blue line, catching the moonlight and cutting through the silvery fields.

But her eyes were drawn to the large swath of darkened woodland that edged one of the fields. Exactly as he described it.

Standing there, the fields rolling away from her like an ocean, Sakura's throat went dry.

What was she doing here?

She could still turn around, go back, she told herself. Behind her was safety. Before her was uncharted.

She didn't know anything about Katsuro. And, more disconcerting, she didn't know what she wanted from him.

But she knew exactly what he wanted from her. Just a walk. The lure was undeniable.

She dragged a hand over the top of the crumbling stone, pulse pounding anew.

She didn't move, though. Just the thought of meeting him clashed deeply with her sense of duty, obligation.

It was one thing to bump into him, unexpectedly, on a mission. But if she agreed to a clandestine meeting, all responsibility, and blame, rested on her shoulders. If she was caught, if something went wrong, if she failed her mission...

She shook her head, clearing the terrible thoughts. Nothing had gone wrong, she told herself.

Sakura mulled her day and the steps that had led her to this precipice then, unbidden, she remembered his earnestness.

He had gone to unimaginable lengths to save her, thrown over all of Itachi's plans. And he asked nothing of her in return. Except a walk.

She knew he was the teammate she'd never had. She had put it out of her mind, but she had to admit to herself that she'd never forgotten. Any of it. She just couldn't see it until now.

Wasn't her obligation to a teammate just as strong as her obligation to her village? Or more so? Wasn't that what Kakashi always said. And now, through Katsuro, she understood why. But where did that leave her? She had to make a choice.

And somewhere out there he was still waiting for her.

Blue-back waves rippled across the tops of the barley in the cool evening breeze. Sakura closed her eyes and breathed in the soft, sweet air. When she opened them again, she was resolute. Grinding boot heels into the dirt, she pushed her hand against the old stone, and set off.

* * *

Beyond the field, Katsuro squatted on the limb of a branch, watching, waiting. Hoping she would move ahead. She stopped, casting a wide gaze across the field. Moonlight robbed all the color from her hair, her clothes. Pale, pensive, she rested her hand on a large stone, but never moved forward.

He wanted her to come out so badly. More than he ever wanted anything, really.

Katsuro shifted his weight on the branch and gave in to that indescribable longing. He didn't know why he wanted to spend time with her — there was nothing in his experience that would set a precedent for reaching out to someone. But just a little more time, that was all he wanted.

Watching her at the edge of the field, he sensed her hesitation. This may be too much for her, too sudden. But he could wait. Maybe tomorrow.

There on that branch, with nothing dividing them but a single blue field, he wanted to give in to the pull that she was all that there was. There was no sleepy farm town, no mission. No Konoha. No Itachi.

He didn't have to think any further than spending an evening with her. No obligations, commands or recriminations.

She must feel the weight of it too. He understood her hesitation and forgave her.

Maybe not tonight, he thought. Maybe she's too scared. Yeah, maybe tomorrow.

Well, he could wait.

Hell, he thought with a soft laugh, looking down to pluck a leaf from the branch. He could probably wait forever if he knew she would come. Katsuro traced the smooth edges with a finger.

But when he looked up again, she was gone.

**

* * *

Author's notes**

Everything conspired against me in finishing this chapter! But at long last, it's here. As usual, more notes at my website, plus a small omitted scene. Hope you enjoy!

**Chapter Notes**

• Forgot one from last chapter: the garden tools in Katsuro's cart are drawn from real life "ninjas," stealthy assassins who would carry common items that could easily be turned into weapons. So a garden trowel becomes a kunai.

• This chapter, Katsuro is more laid back, happier. Away from Itachi, his personality shines through. So this is the true Naruto underneath. Hope it comes through.

_• Dark licks fell over his forehead, but the curls peeking out under the back of the straw hat were burnished gold by the midday sun._ — A bit of a joke for the reader. We know what Sakura can't, that under that brown hair the blond is waiting to be revealed.

• _"Well? What about me?" Katsuro said in mock exasperation. "Do you think I've changed?" "No," she said, chuckling in spite of her distracted feelings. "Not a bit."_ — twist on the lines they say to each other after reuniting in part two. She asks if her appearance has changed, he happily tells her no.

• Sakura's character — so there is not much in the manga that gives direction to Sakura on any independent work. She is almost always presented in connection to Team 7; her growth as a medical student, her training with Tsunade has been skimmed over. So I am trying to show strength and character growth, missions and decision making, in a way that is in keeping with Sakura's nature. Which, to me, is more level headed, engaging and patient than Naruto or Sasuke. Either of them on a solo mission would barge through and possibly botch it (Naruto) or decide it wasn't worth his time (Sasuke). Sakura would treat it with the same efficiency she uses as a medic. Taking the time to identify all the variables, thinking through the situation, then acting to bring about the best resolution.

• Sakura's missions — In this first one, both the mission and her interaction with Katsuro will be easy and straightforward. But the tone, urgency and violence of her missions will build. And her bond with the rogue will be tested accordingly.

• _'This is it,' she thought and stepped out of the tidy golden square. One foot, then the next. ... Standing there, at the edge of a field that rolled away from her like an ocean, Sakura's throat went dry._ — The tug-of-war between Sakura's village obligations and Katsuro's obvious refusal of anything to do with village life will continue to build. But here, Sakura has to take the leap into the unknown for him.

• _Hell, he thought with a soft laugh, looking down to pluck a leaf from the branch. He could probably wait forever if he knew she would come. Katsuro traced the smooth edges with a finger._ — From the scene in the first chapter, where he is watching her from the branch as he decides on which team member to abduct. He plucks a green leaf from the branch before he leaps off after her, setting all these events in motion.

• For your listening enjoyment: _Blue-back waves rippled across the tops of the barley in the cool evening breeze. — _I listen to a lot of music while I write, and some of it seeps through and colors my thoughts. If I could make a soundtrack for the scene of Sakura deliberating at the edge of a moonlit barley field, wind racing over the tops, it would be this song: Imogen Heap's Canvas (the Mark Eteson remix). You can hear it on youtube at .com/watch?v=LvRX2IiQAUU. The lyrics are fine, but it's the insistent beat giving way to lush instrumentals (beginning at 3:20), that gets me every time. A year later, I hear that bit of the song and still think of this scene.

* * *

Thanks so much for all the amazing reviews. I'm truly touched. Tried to pm as many as I could, but I know I missed some. So I'll say it again, thankyou, thankyou, thankyou.

Piper, braindead and lookoutthewindow, I'm glad you like Sakura's characterization. She'll get more time now, with lots of growth, and some ass-kicking!

Nick, anonaruto, I hope that Naruto's personality is shining through the disguise. There will be more to come.

KungFu, thack, and everyone else, I seriously appreciate your thoughts on the character development, setting and symbolic elements of the story. The feedback really helps me shape the things connections and situations to come. (Nods to Kungfu for the inspiration to set the genjutsu memory scene in the barley field.) So thanks. Don't stop. I love to hear what you guys think, and hopefully it comes through in what I write!


	19. Secret Places

_Secret Places_

_Lovers find secret places  
__in this violent world  
__where they make transactions  
__with beauty._

_Reason says, Nonsense.  
__I have walked and measured the walls here.  
__There are no places like that._

_Love says, There are._

— _Rumi, translated by Coleman Barks_

* * *

Chapter 19 - Secret Places

Making quick work of the road, Sakura descended the hill, hopped over a shallow ditch and waded into the sea of waist-high barley. Moving steadily toward the shadowed woods, the kunoichi looked calm, but she was on high alert, scanning for the slightest movement.

Sakura held her breath for a moment and let her concentration deepen. She forced her chakra to become a divining rod for her senses. Everything around her came into sharper focus: the roll of the land, the wall of trees, the desolate road.

Any fluctuation in chakra would present itself as heat or brightness or sound, as something, _anything_ out of the ordinary. But there was nothing here. The countryside was silent and still. As it should be at this time of night.

A sudden breeze rushed through the barley, setting the wispy tops shuddering as it passed. Then the thick silence returned.

He wasn't there.

Sakura softly let out her breath, feeling more than a little deflated.

'Ridiculous,' she chastised herself, snapping off a head of barley in frustration. To worry so over the decision, then be dejected when he doesn't show...what was wrong with her.

'Might as well see this farce through, then I'll go back.'

She continued on toward the dark trees, and the cool night air seeped in, easing her anxiety. Sakura let her shoulders sag and flicked the barley away.

Just then, something broke the black outlines of trees ahead of her.

Catching it too late, Sakura could not pinpoint the spot, nor discern any creature that might be lurking in the shadows. Her hand slipped to her thigh, reflexively seeking the cold comfort of the kunai strapped there.

Maybe she was wrong about this. All of it.

She stepped out of the pale blue field and stood at the edge of the woodline, peering into the inky shadows. Thick with trees, the forest blocked the movement of air, muffled her footsteps.

Sakura swallowed, but she resisted the urge to turn back. Tightening her grip on the kunai handle, she blinked into the dim light, forcing her eyes to adjust. She scanned quietly for any sign, any hint—

"Sakura," Katsuro's voice sounded softly in front of her somewhere.

The nervous tightness in her gut returned. His chakra signature had been concealed. He _was_ there, after all.

Licking suddenly dry lips, Sakura stepped forward into the darkness. Dragging her hand over rough bark, she moved slowly toward the sound.

"I thought you'd turned back," his voice came through the shadows again. He was smiling. She could hear it. That fluttery feeling of anticipation returned, too.

"One minute you were on the hill," he chuckled, growing closer. "Next time I looked you were down in the field."

And then his face slowly coalesced out of the darkness. Hand propped against a tree, he watched her, waiting. A soft, familiar smile curling up the corners of his mouth.

Katsuro was a study of blues and blacks, but her mind filled in the colors. He had returned to his fatigues, and looked more like she had been used to seeing him. If he was doing everything he could to be disarming, then it was working.

"I'm glad you came," he said quietly.

He pushed himself away from the tree and stepped toward her, grinning.

Smiling, Sakura shook her head and laughed to herself. Even in shadows he still kept that strange sunbeam quality that always managed to put her at ease.

A warm hand slipped around her forearm.

"Come on. I have something I want to show you," he said, gently tugging her arm.

Falling into step beside him, Sakura let Katsuro lead her through the black maze of tree trunks.

She should have expected nothing less — he was waiting happily for her as if it were a picnic. In the middle of the woods. In the middle of the night.

Slivers of blue light peeked through the trees, growing wider as they approached. A soft murmuring replaced the heavy stillness.

Katsuro glanced back at her face as they approached the edge of the tree line. Their bodies were beginning to glow faintly, illuminated by the strange blue light that lay just beyond. He watched for her reaction, and wasn't disappointed.

"Wow," Sakura said, pale eyes going wide as they stepped out of the trees. It looked like a scene from one of her childhood storybooks.

There, in the middle of the dark forest floor, was a silvery, swirling pool. Ripples of light bounced from the surface, clung to the trees like blue gossamer, and coated everything in a pale glow.

Darker trees lined the edges of the clearing, soaring to the night sky like high black walls. And in the circle of firmament that remained above, the moon hung from the center like a pearl.

Sakura felt like she'd tumbled into a secret room. She stepped slowly into the opening, taking it all in.

At their feet, the moon-silvered stream pooled languidly behind enormous time-worn boulders before fading into the darkness. Across the water, an impenetrable stand of bamboo crowded the curving banks. Their rigid blue lines made up the farthest wall and completing the feeling of utter seclusion.

Katsuro's fingers slid off her arm. Sakura kept going, drawn, as he had been earlier that same night, out onto the largest boulder. It nudged into the stream, damming the water just enough to form the pool.

Sakura slowly turned a circle, taking everything in before looking back to him, the hand at her side open to the scene. "Just...wow!"

"Yeah," he said smiling, and joined her on the rock. "I found it earlier. Thought it was nice. And that was before the moon even came out."

He picked up a pebble and arced it gracefully into the center of the pool, breaking the smoothly flowing surface into a myriad more silver ripples.

"Sit down," he invited, brushing her arm with his finger tips. He made himself comfortable, slinging his legs over the curve of the boulder. She stood beside him for a moment, then followed suit.

"How is your mission so far?" he asked.

Sakura bit her lip, weighing all her options, before slowly replying, "It's ok."

No harm in answering honestly, as long as she didn't give anything away. But she cut her eyes at Katsuro with a sudden thought.

"And how's _your_ mission?" she said slyly. She expected him to clam right up. Or tell her off.

But he didn't even flinch. Leaning back, hands propped behind him, heels tapping slightly against the rock, he kept his eyes on the water.

"I could care less about it," he grumbled finally, then shrugged his shoulder. "But it's done all the same."

Remembering something, he turned and smiled into her face.

"I'm glad you came out tonight. I was afraid you might not—"

A strange, rumbling sound drowned out his voice. Katsuro grimaced, sat up quickly and slapped a hand over his stomach. Sakura stared at him.

"Didn't you eat?" she said, astonished.

"No," he said, looking sheepish. "I was worried I'd miss you, so I came on ahead."

Katsuro slid the hand off his stomach to rub the back of neck, laughing self-conciously under Sakura's serious gaze.

'This was how he knew where this secluded spot was,' she thought, still studying him, 'because he'd been here for a long time. Waiting for me.'

"And no one's going to be wondering where you are?" she said, giving him a skeptical glance before twisting her body to slip a hand into her hip pack.

"Nah," he shrugged. "I've got three days. They don't care." But he watched her movements with growing curiosity.

"Hmm" she answered quietly, her attention distracted.

Something rustled at her side, just out of Katsuro's view. He narrowed his eyes, looking from her profile to where her arm crossed her torso and disappeared behind her hip.

Katsuro was just leaning forward to look around her, see exactly what she was up to, when the rustling sound muffled. Followed by a soft zip.

Then, in one fluid motion, Sakura straightened, turned back to Katsuro and shoved a closed fist into the space between them.

Katsuro leaned back out of instinct. He didn't move, only frowned, watching her fist as if she were hiding a weapon.

Sakura caught his slightly alarmed expression and nearly burst out laughing.

As a medic, she had learned early on that the promise of sweets was nearly as good as any medicine in it's restorative effects on children. And she made it a point to carry some in case she ran across any kids on her travels.

Turning her fist over, Sakura slowly uncurled her fingers. She wondered if Katsuro, with all his rough exterior and unanswered questions, might be just as susceptible to the allures of candy.

"Hey, what's that?" he said, leaning toward her again, worries gone. He was clearly delighted at the paper-wrapped rectangle she had hidden in her palm. Sakura couldn't help but smile: She was right.

"Rice candy," she said. But unlike other children, he did not snatch it right out of her hand. In fact, he didn't move at all. She nudged her hand at him. "You can have it."

"Thanks," he said, taking the candy. He crumpled the wrapper in his hand was about to sink his teeth in to the soft, lemony-scented sweet when Sakura stopped him.

"Wait, it's rice paper."

He gave her a confused look.

"Have you never eaten this kind of candy?" she said with a surprised frown.

He began to flub for an answer, but Sakura dismissed it, instead plucking the wrinkled paper from his hand. She had answered her own question almost immediately. Obviously, rogues didn't stop for candy breaks. She flattened the white wrapper and handed it back to him.

"Let the paper dissolve on your tongue," she said in the same patient way she had done for dozens of children in the hospital. He did as he was told, and Sakura was rewarded with the wide-eyed look of amazement she'd become accustomed to with all her patients under 10.

"That's really weird! But, thanks!" he tacked on cheerfully. If he'd never had it, or any other candy, then he glossed over it with a big smile.

She smiled back, pleased as well. It wasn't much, but at least it would take the edge off his hunger.

He sat back and popped the candy into his mouth, chewing slowly, savoring it. She sat back as well, unconsciously mirroring his comfortable position. All the anxiety of meeting him had slipped away without her even knowing it, and she sat next to him in peaceable silence.

After a while, Katsuro straightened and cleared his throat. Sakura turned to him, but he only looked forward. Nervous about something.

"I-I was going to..." he stammered finally. "I was always going to let you go. Before," he said with a vague nod. "You know that don't you? Back to your village."

He hazarded a sideways glance at her, to see if she understood. When he saw that she did, he cut his eyes quickly back to the pool.

She sat up too. He was admitting, confessing, speaking about the things he'd done that went completely against his orders. Things he'd probably never spoken about...and hoped would never be discovered.

Yeah, she thought wryly, she understood how he felt.

"But I knew," he said, "I figured out that it was Konoha who had you. When I saw the brother."

The brother. He meant Sasuke. Funny, she thought, their perspective was so different. "_The brother_," those ominous words, had always meant "Itachi" to her.

"I saw you nod at me," he added quietly, "from the branch, when you were caught, but I didn't understand it until later." He slumped forward, propping his elbows on his knees, and blew out a long, low breath.

It was as if he'd been keeping that secret inside for a long, long time and was so relieved just to let it out. She knew how he felt, better than anyone else.

After all, she kept the other half of that secret.

She looked down at her lap, picked off some stray fibers from the barley field. Maybe it was time to put down her burden too.

"I-I didn't tell them," she said quietly. "About you."

He looked back at her, but she wouldn't look up.

"They never asked," she said, smoothing invisible wrinkles from her skirt. "So I never told them."

She sighed and looked straight out at the gently swirling water.

"It was the least I could do," she said, turning to look at him at last.

Katsuro sat back slowly, brought his shoulders even with hers. He studied her face, letting her words sinking in. Slowly, his mouth curved up.

"Then... Then we're ok," he said, eyes shining silver-blue in the half light.

"Yeah," Sakura breathed. The thought hung in the air between them.

They _were_ ok. He summed it up perfectly. They were both safe, neither one was in danger now. They had made it through.

"Yeah," she repeated, nodding with more certainty, smiling back at him.

Hope gave way to happiness. Katsuro grabbed her hand and gave a quick squeeze, laughing. Sakura laughed too, in spite of herself, and kicked her legs against the rock, hair ruffling lightly.

She stretched her arms behind her and breathed deeply. This familiar closeness was something she could fall back into so easily. Her bond with him was still there, unchanged. Time hadn't touched it.

Katsuro poked her leg suddenly.

"Hey, how did the defensive techniques work out for you, did you ever try them?"

"The defensive techniques...oh, you mean those self-defense moves?" she said, then brightened. "Yes! I did use them."

She stopped herself from admitting she used it on her fucked up teammate after her return.

"They're quite effective," she said smugly.

"Good," Katsuro said, not missing the devilish note in her voice. He guessed at what she had left off — that she had kicked someone's ass, and it felt good.

"Great!" he beamed.

"Yeah," she nodded, not bothering to hide her self-satisfied smirk.

Glancing past Katsuro's shoulder, Sakura noticed that the blue shadows were deepening. The pool was loosing some of it's luster. She looked up, the moon had drifted beyond the jagged black treetops. It was time for her to be going, too.

"I need to get back," she said soberly. She stood, reluctantly turning her back on the tranquil scene, and peered into the dark woods.

But if Katsuro was surprised, he didn't say a word. He stood up beside her and dusted his pants.

"This way," he said simply, and stepped around her to lead her back to the field.

Walking back in silence, Sakura was pleased that he didn't try to stop her or persuade her to stay longer. It meant he took her seriously. He knew she was on a mission, and more importantly, that he didn't want to interfere.

When they came within sight of the rippling barley, Katsuro stopped. Resting a hand against a dark tree trunk, he kicked distractedly at a root. Sakura scanned across the field, the road and what she could see of the town. Nothing had changed.

"Tomorrow?" Katsuro's voice sounded beside her softly, a little hesitant. It betrayed the seriousness of what he was asking. "Can you come again tomorrow?" She could tell he was trying to be light, but there was an anxious edge to his voice.

She cleared her throat, scanned the road one last time, and made her choice.

"Yes," Sakura answered softly, "but just for a little while." And she stepped away before she had a chance to change her mind.

"But next time, make sure you eat!" she called over her shoulder

"No way!" he shot back immediately. "Bring some more of those candies!"

Sakura's mouth dropped open at his cheeky response. Casting a glance back she found him grinning unrepentantly. She couldn't help but laugh.

Shaking her head, she set off over the field, leaving him like she'd found him: leaning against the tree, watching her.

* * *

**Author's notes:**

Smaller chapter, broke it off the larger one I intended to post because the tone and mood of this moment are so different. So, here it is, all on it's own. I feel bad that I posted it as a preview of _part_ of the upcoming chapter on the blog, then changed my mind and made it the whole chapter. So, if you caught the preview on the blog, my apologies. To make up for it, I'll post a preview of Chapter 20 on the blog on Sunday. As usual, check the website for a few spoiler notes plus the rest of the Rumi poem.

* * *

**Chapter notes:**

Touching on the theme of hidden rooms, hidden spaces, where their true selves can be revealed. Like the hidden panel room, and the image of the cherry tree over the water. All secret spaces where they are safe from the things that pull on their lives. So lots of things to reinforce trust (darkness into light, etc.).

Ironic, the title was the last thing, the very last thing, and I just happened to remember the Rumi poem that I love about secret places, hence the title. It fit beautifully.

• _Licking suddenly dry lips, Sakura stepped forward into the darkness. _— Metaphor for trusting Katsuro. She knows nothing about him, so it's a total leap. And this marks the beginning of her choosing to trust him.

• Lots of differences and similarities — His reaction to the candy illustrates how different his life has been. But now they share the same secret, so they have a common bond connecting them, unrealized until now.

• _"Then... Then we're ok," he said, eyes shining silver-blue in the half light._ — Like the burnished gold hair from the last chapter. _We_ know his eyes are blue, but she doesn't.

• _Her bond with him was still there, unchanged. Time hadn't touched it._ — Direct reference to the painted panel in the temple. The scene with the spot under the cherry tree that is untouched by the seasons and passage of time. It means that their bond is true, that in those secret spaces where they are connected time does not change how they feel about each other. Sakura is beginning to have some sense of a deeper connection.

• _"I need to get back," she said soberly. She stood, reluctantly turning her back on the tranquil scene, and peered into the dark woods. ..."This way," he said simply, and stepped around her to lead her back to the field. _— Lovely place, but I didn't want the characters to dwell on leaving it. I think, as with most things in real life, we don't have a sense of special moments as we're in them. It's only once they've passed that we realize how unique, amazing or out-of-reach they are.

• _"No way!" he shot back immediately. "Bring some more of those candies!" Sakura's mouth dropped open at his cheeky response._ — First hint of Naruto's joking personality. Which has never had an opportunity to shine through before. More of this to come.

* * *

Didn't have a chance to pm this time... but I'll post my responses that relate to the story or character development. Will pm everyone from here on out, though.

animemistress — you mentioned how I used the color blue quite a bit, and I do. Some color references are intentional, some more to evoke a feeling. But it got me thinking...so after your review I made sure to write about Katsuro's eyes shining silver-blue from the moonlight! Nods to you for that! :)

witchymage - thanks so much for your thoughtful and thought-provoking comments. I appreciate your telling me how the Sakura line about Sasuke being a dead weight came across to you. My only thought when writing that bit was to make sure the reader knew that the issue for Sakura was resolved. The dig from Sasuke had come full circle, she recognized it and was moving on. That's why I had her think the line, but never say anything to him directly. I respect your opinion completely, and would never try to sway you with explanations after-the-fact. What I write, and the way you receive it are two entirely separate things. And you couldn't be any nicer in letting me know how you felt, which I deeply appreciate! Sasuke is a touchy subject. He is not likeable at all in the manga. And I am going to try to make him moderately redeemable here. So...I'm tampering with Naruto, and making Sasuke less of an ass. Two strikes against me! lol Sakura will get pissed again in the future, but I'm going to work hard not to undermine it. Anyway, I appreciate both your kinds words and your feedback!

nxkris - I think I'm going to tape your review to my wall. I agree with every bit of it, and I really appreciate that you are enjoying the story. I couldn't find what I wanted to read, so I decided to write it instead. I'm glad you like it too. As for Sakura showing up in Naruto's arms, it's still a handful of chapters away. They both have to grow a little more. Katsuro definitely. His change will be coming into his own, assuming his given name, and taking back who he was. In a word, badass. I've written a lot of the scenes already, and it is sooo hard not to share them. In fact, I have to be careful not to mix up the names Katsuro/Naruto when writing these chapters. But I might, in the coming chapters, put up a preview of their future interaction. Anyway, there will be plenty of action and steaminess once he comes into his own. And hopefully knowing the journey that's been made will make the naru/saku moments that much sweeter.

kungfu - both Sakura and Naruto are affected by their changed lives. Naruto is not Gaara, but it would have been a slippery slope for him if he never had that core of friends. And Sakura is isolated here as well with Naruto. Right on all counts. So, yeah, I've incorporated touch as a way of connecting. Not in the obvious way, but when you are alone, you take that little bit of humanity for granted. It's nice to be touched. And for Naruto, it's nice to have someone he feels comfortable enough to hold onto. He naturally wants to reach out once he trusts someone enough to reach out to. I'm writing them as real people. And as you have insightfully said, it is easy to cut yourself off from others. So, for them, touch is a way to bridge those gaps. And in reading my notes on chapters to come, this is a theme that will wind it's way through. Yes, they are two halves of a whole, but they don't know they are broken (isn't that always the way?). I'm not writing to pull heartstrings. But I'm trying to portray them honestly, the happy mixed in with the sad.

braindead - get what your saying about Naruto finding precious people, and he'll get there. It's a slow process. As Katsuro, he's responding like the manga Naruto would to Sakura. But it will take him a while to break from the constraints that Itachi has him in. Remember, Katsuro believes it's for his own safety. Flashback chapter coming soon. Hopefully that will help.

nannykiwi, narutorocks, winterknight, moldock, and fellow DA-er celious! - I'm so so so glad you are enjoying it, and I always look forward to you comments

ashenmarsha, eater of pocky, riseagainst - thank you for your kind, kind words. I've tried to keep them in character as much as I can, so I'm glad it's coming through.

piperjulian, jho, lightningkun - thanks a million times over. seriously. you made my day.

fransis, yamiumi, and everyone else - thanks so much. Glad you're enjoying it.


	20. Sakura's Mission

Chapter 20 - Sakura's Mission

Tugging at the corner of her eye, Sakura slipped her hand quickly to her mouth, stifling a yawn for the third time that morning.

But the collection of old farmers leaning against the water trough didn't seem the least bit sympathetic. And the twin boys wrestling at her feet paid her no attention at all.

Sakura hop-stepped back suddenly, giving the boys ample space for a face-plant without careening into her.

Wearily scanning the wide, empty road, Sakura thought maybe she'd wait just a little longer. Surely there were more volunteers than this...

"Hey ninja lady," one of the boys called up from his chokehold. "Aren't you gonna teach us some stuff? When are we gonna start?"

Another tangle of knuckles, elbows and knees, and the brothers switched places.

"Yeah, nobody else is coming," the victorious sibling shouted up at her before dodging a punch. Something caught his attention, and he swung his head back around. "Hey! Do we get to use your knife?"

"She's got a knife?" a muffled voice gasped. Wide eyes popped over the crook of an elbow. The losing brother wriggled an arm free and swatted in Sakura's direction. "I get it first!"

Sakura took another step back, gritting her teeth. She was a guest. A guest. _A guest_. She would _not_ knock the local children into next week, no matter how much they deserved it.

"It's a kunai," she ground out. "And you two will not be doing _anything_ unless you get off the ground."

But they didn't hear her. Or if they did, they ignored her. One brother was inching up the other's pant leg, ready to sink his teeth into the exposed calf. The other had his fist raised in the air, middle knuckle out, about to deliver a punishing frog to his thigh.

Sakura imagined that somewhere in this town was a happy mother with a quiet house, all because she'd sent her two troublemakers out to 'go find the ninja lady.'

Howls of pain erupted at her feet, but Sakura was beyond caring. She was finished with them.

It was clear no one else was coming. She turned back to see what she was left with. Lazing against the low stone wall, the old farmers were content to watch the two ruffians beat themselves to oblivion.

They didn't bring gear or weaponry of any kind. Only buckets, rakes and shovels were propped around. None of them were taking this seriously — except the two rolling around on the ground — and this was what she was paid to do here. If she couldn't get a reasonable group of people together to protect their food stores, then she'd fail her mission.

Sakura's frustration bubbled to the surface.

"So, this is all..." she snapped, but she stopped herself.

Turning their heads slowly, the scruffy farmers looked back at her one by one, smacking their lips and shifting their feet. Sakura could see they were waiting for any excuse to leave. And her yelling 'This is all your village could come up with? Old men and pain-in-the-ass kids?' would certainly set them on their way. Then she'd be left with no one to train.

Sakura sighed. Better make the best of it.

"Sooo," she said with false brightness. "I guess this is everyone! We'd better get started."

After setting the two boys to the task of "monitoring the perimeter" — which consisted of running the length of the town and generally staying out of her hair — she focused on the men.

They were farmers, through and through. Not one of them had a wisp of military training, shinobi or otherwise. Sakura couldn't fathom how the innkeeper had persuaded these men to show up here.

So she switched gears. Instead of teaching them anything about defensive stances, how to protect yourself from a weapon attack or even how to identify an opponent, she settled for organizing them into shifts for guarding the warehouse. And that took up the better part of the morning.

"Just sit there," she said finally as they regrouped at the trough. "Watch the building. If you see someone trying to break in...well... Just run and get the innkeeper."

All of them, herself included, were ready to be done with this folly. The men were yawning, scrubbing hands over their faces and only barely paying attention. A battered old straw hat was conspicuously nodding forward out of the end of the line.

"And don't fall asleep!"

A loud snort sounded down the line, and the hat came jerking back up. The old farmer underneath it grimaced.

"Dismissed," she said resignedly.

Though she'd hardly done any physical activity, the morning was exhausting. On her way back to the inn for lunch the boys raced up to her.

"What's next?" they demanded.

"Can we fight? Do you have nunchucks in there?" one said, reaching for her hip pack. The other joined in, circling around behind her. "Yeah? Throwing stars? More knives?"

They only had eyes for the pack now, and they looked like they were ready to pounce.

Sakura put both hands up, keeping them out of her personal space.

"Stop!" she bellowed.

After a moment, the boys shifted their attention to her face, blinking as if they weren't quite sure if the ninja lady said something or not.

"There's nothing in there but medical supplies," she lied. Then she hit on an idea.

"Listen," she whispered conspiratorially. "You're town always needs protection, whether I'm here to give you 'orders' or not." The two looked giddy at the word. Sakura smiled. She had their full attention now. "You've checked the town, right?"

"Yes! Ma'am! Ninja-lady-sama!" and they saluted her for the full effect. Sakura's eyebrows hitched at the barrage of honorifics, and she cleared her throat.

"Good!" she declared. With a finger in the air, she began to pace, doing her best Tsunade impersonation. "But what about the crops, the western fields, the eastern road..." The boys' excitement ratcheted up with each location. "The lower houses, the upper houses... Anyone could be anywhere!"

They were nearly bouncing when she finally looked back at them, heads nodding up and down like dolls. One brother shook the other's arm frantically.

"Yes! Yes! We'll check them all!" they burst out in unison, then tore off without another look back.

"Make sure you check with your mother first!" she shouted at their dust cloud. They probably didn't hear her. And their mother probably was happy to have them occupied. But just the same, at least she'd told them to ask.

Sakura returned to the inn for a quiet lunch, hoping to catch the innkeeper, but she was informed politely that he was out. So, alone with her scattered thoughts, she picked through her meal. The events of the day before were so consuming she didn't even hear subtle woosh of the shoji door sliding open.

"Sakura-san," the innkeeper said, startling her. But he continued with nervous graciousness "How is your dish?"

"Excellent," she smiled back at him.

"And I hope you have had a productive morning?" he continued with more uncertainty.

Her smile faltered.

"Was that what you wanted to see me about?" Disappointment colored his voice.

"No," Sakura said slowly. "Not exactly. But there is something else I'd like to speak to you about."

"Certainly," he said. He slid the door closed behind him and took the seat opposite her. "How can I be of assistance?"

Pushing her plate forward, she gave him a serious look.

"The farmers you sent me today were fine, but they were...not what I expected." She raised an eyebrow, hoping he'd gather her meaning.

He looked at the table for a moment, then sighed.

"There are others in our town. Younger, more capable men," he said. "But they do not think..." His voice thinned.

"Our village is not a shinobi village like yours," he began again, smiling weakly. "So we are very different..."

Raising a hand, she decided to spare him — and her— any more discomfort.

"I understand."

And she did, better than he knew. These were men with families, businesses, futures. Lives that shouldn't be thrown away in anonymous service for a backwater town.

Even though Konoha was days away, she could still hear her parents' voices ringing in her ears, as if they were right beside her.

"Why would you want to get involved? Their troubles have nothing to do with you. You could get hurt...or worse. Just stay out of it. It will all work itself out, you'll see."

But she'd never been able to "stay out of it." If she could help, then that was where she wanted to be. It was an overwhelming drive that she had come to believe was a fundamental difference between a civilian and a shinobi.

"Our townspeople mean well," the innkeeper said, sounding more serious than she'd heard him yet, "but they have their hands full. Most are merchants and don't see the benefit in helping others when it doesn't directly benefit them." His voice dropped another notch and he shrugged half-heartedly. "The farmers have a better sense of helping others but even that comes after their own needs are met."

His eyes went suddenly wide, embarrassed perhaps at his own blunt admission to an outsider.

"I mean...that is to say... They are all lovely people and our town, though small, is very close, and..."

"You don't have to explain. I understand perfectly," Sakura said, her respect for him rising at his honest assessment. "In every town there are those that help and those that don't. Konoha is no different. We are just lucky to have the shinobi principles engrained in many of our villagers.

"And your town is lucky to have you to fill in their shortcomings," she said with a knowing look.

That seemed to assuage his guilt. A pleased smile smoothed away the worry lines on his face.

"Thank you, Sakura-san. But we are the fortunate ones for having you to help us," he said graciously. She nodded at his kind words.

"There is something else..." she began, but she let the thought hang. She had planned to tell him about finding the stolen food with the children, then let him decide how to deal with them.

But Sakura changed her mind. He seemed decent enough. Maybe if she could prove that they were starving then he would be lenient on them. She'd need to find out more about them first.

Tapping a finger at her chin, Sakura came up with a new plan.

"Could I have access to some extra supplies if I needed any? Maybe some—"

"Of course!" he interjected. "We have an excellent metal shop, and any weaponry you might need would be readily—"

"No, no," Sakura said with a small smile. "I meant food, actually."

The innkeeper frowned, confused. And a little disappointed.

"I have some theories I'd like to test out," she offered.

"Ah!" he brightened instantly. And with a sweep of long silk sleeves, he was leading the way to the inn's larder, offering her whatever she might need.

* * *

Sakura canvassed the dusty village all afternoon. Her feet were hot, and her shirt underneath the fruit-heavy rucksack was plastered to her back. But those kids were more stealthy than most shinobis she knew.

Every low wall, every alley became a perfect hiding spot. And Sakura had searched for so many hours she was sure she was beginning to see things. A crouched figure at the corner of a building turned out to be a shadow, a foot behind a crate was really just a crumpled cloth. Nothing panned out.

The last straw was the pair of eyes peering up at her from behind a box. She thought she'd finally found one of them, when a sinewy alley cat wound itself around the edge.

She stooped to pet it half-heartedly.

"Well, at least one of us should get to feel good," she said, and scratched behind its ear.

Glancing around, Sakura had the distinct feeling those kids were nearby, watching her. Probably laughing away that they'd outfoxed the 'ninja lady.'

'Well, let them win this round,' she thought. She could wait them out. She'd try again tonight. If that basket was their only food source, they'd be needing more soon. She hoisted up the rucksack, and the cat took off.

The sun was low and orange when she finally made her way back up to the inn. But in the distance, two sweaty, dirty, tired boys were coming right for her.

Sakura sighed to herself.

'Can't find one set of kids. Can't shake the other.'

"Hey," one of the twins called to her, stopping to catch his breath. The other plopped down tiredly in the road. "Hey ninja lady. We didn't see anything."

"Wow," Sakura said, coming to them. "You guys have worked hard. Here," she dug around in the sack and handed them several peaches each. That revived them a bit.

"Meet me here tomorrow for your next assignment and—"

"No way, lady," the boy grumbled and started walking again. "Town's safe. We're done being ninjas."

The other one stood finally, then cocked his head up at her.

"Would we get to use the knives tomorrow?"

A few paces away, the brother stopped and listened, reconsidering.

"No," Sakura shook her head. "Those take years of training to—"

"Then we're going home," he said in a sulky voice. Both turned and scuffed down the road, leaving Sakura smiling bemusedly at their thin trail of dust.

Dinner was a quiet, solitary affair. But Sakura did not mind the view of the sunset as much as she had the night before. Eagerness had replaced her anxiety. She found that tonight the sun could not drop fast enough behind the horizon.

A few hours later, under the quiet of night, Sakura made her way quickly down the western road. Glancing around to make sure she was alone, Sakura slipped over the field and was at the tree line faster than she thought possible.

Stepping quietly into the ranks of dark trees, Sakura was surprised by the stillness. It was too quiet. Maybe she was early. Maybe something happened and he wasn't there. There was nothing specific about the meeting, just "tomorrow." Maybe it didn't work out for him—

"Sa-Sakura?" Katsuro's voice called from a distance.

She stepped forward, not bothering to check her silly smile in the darkness.

"You're earlier than last night," he said drawing closer.

Her smile faded. "Is that ok?"

"Yeah! That's great," he said, materializing out of the darkness in front of her.

If it was possible, his smile was even brighter than the night before.

"I can only stay a little while tonight," she said, falling into step beside him.

"Why?"

"Because I have...some...things to do tonight," she said, stumbling over what, if anything, she should reveal.

He didn't respond. And the darkness gave no hint as to how he took her weak explanation.

She didn't intend to puncture his happy mood. But she supposed not telling him anything might be misconstrued as distrust.

She curled her hair behind her ears. This was more complicated than she thought. She trusted him, but how far did that go?

Sakura hoped he might say something, fill the void, but it never came.

"So what about you?" she said finally. "Were you around here all day?"

"No," he murmured, distracted. "I wasn't here today."

Sakura was getting a little irritated. This wasn't going to work if he was going to be weird about her mission—

"What _things_?" he blurted out. "Like meetings or dinners? Something fancy?"

She laughed softly. So that's what was troubling him.

They got to the stream and, though the moon was lower in the sky, she could now see his face clearly. Katsuro was frowning, artlessly puzzling over exactly _what_ she could be doing in here.

"It's nothing fancy. More like this, in fact," she said, opening her palm to the scene in front of them before she sat down.

But Katsuro's curiosity had been piqued. He sat beside her and rubbed his chin, working it all out.

Finally, he looked over at slyly.

"So, you're running surveillance..." he said, watching her closely. Her eyes went wide. He was right.

"But the part I can't figure out is why you be would watching a stream," he teased, repeating her motion and flashing his hand at their surroundings. "What kind of missions do they send you on, anyway?"

She laughed outright, slapping a hand over her mouth realizing she might have been too loud. He chuckled at her anyway.

"So is anyone else joining you for this 'stream surveillance' or are you alone?" He was still smiling, but there was a seriousness in his eyes.

'This is what he was getting at,' she thought, her own smile slipping a notch.

"Because I happen to be an expert at sitting. And watching. And waiting."

She sighed and looked out, unseeing, at the pool.

Katsuro rocked sideways, bumping his shoulder into hers.

"And if you're alone, I'd be happy to go with you. Love to, actually."

Sakura knew he was reading her responses, looking for the clues. And he'd found them. She didn't have ready answers to his questions, and he could draw his confirmation from her silence. These were probably the kinds of things that Itachi taught him.

She smirked. But that undeniable charm was all his own.

"Come on. Let me go with you. You don't have to tell me anything about what you're doing. I'll just sit up with you."

She slanted a look at him, only to roll her eyes at his goofy grin.

"Two sets of eyes are better than one," he lilted.

She folded her arms over her chest and sighed again.

"You don't give up, do you?" she muttered, turning at the last moment to hide her smile.

"Not without a fight," he quipped without missing a beat. He rocked sideways again, pushing his shoulder into hers, but this time he didn't pull back. The warm pressure was incredibly distracting.

"Learned that from someone I know," he said, tilting forward to look up into her face.

Sakura bit her lip, but one look back at his glittering eyes and she knew it was hopeless. She could think of no real objections. As long as he didn't push her for information.

She wanted him to come. And he knew it too.

Katsuro rocked his shoulder against her, jostling her whole body.

"Sakura-chaaaan," he teased.

She couldn't resist. But she wouldn't let him know that.

"Fine," she said, throwing her hair over her shoulder and tipping her chin up in mock exasperation. "Do what you want."

"Hoo-hoo!" he hollered, jumping up from his spot. "Which stream is it? This one? Another one?" Hand to his brow, he mimed searching high and low until Sakura punched him in the arm.

"You know it's not a stream," she said, ignoring completely his "ows" and the dramatic rubbing of his arm. "It's a building. In town."

"Lead the way, then!" he said, flinging his arm back, injury forgotten.

Sakura shook her head at him. He was ninja through and through. And any mission was his natural element.

Before long they were stealing through the woodlands that clung to the hillside above the town. Sakura led them down the slope till she spied the familiar block of buildings which housed the innkeeper's food reserves. Then they quietly tucked themselves under a clump of trees and waited.

Sakura noticed that the building was conspicuously free of guards. Apparently the farmers thought the training was hypothetical. Well, thank goodness their thief had turned out to be a child, she thought.

True to his word, Katsuro didn't ask anything about her mission, who she was looking for or even where to look. And he didn't distract her from her purpose with needless conversation.

She was pleased. She couldn't help it.

Sneaking a glance at him, Sakura smiled inwardly at his sharp eyes and alert manner. He was taking this seriously, and he was taking her seriously. He saw her as a ninja in her own right.

He could be pretty fierce when he wanted to be, she knew that first hand. And if he was recognizing her abilities, well, then that was something she could be proud of.

"Is that who you're looking for," he said quietly, nodding toward the town.

Sakura looked down quickly, seeing nothing at first on the empty roads. Then she too caught sight of the small figure slipping from the dark edge of one building to the next. He leapt to the roof and moved more openly. A quick turn revealed disheveled hair, a thin face and large black eyes. It was a child. A boy.

Katsuro propped his knees up and sat back, shooting the kunoichi a skeptical glance. It may not have been the type of person he expected to see, but Sakura looked like she'd found her target. She was leaning forward, easing a hand down into the leaves and shifting her weight onto her knees. Her eyes never left the boy.

The kid landed on the roof of a small shed, then gently pulled back a piece of mismatched tin.

Sakura gasped. "So _that's_ how he's getting in."

After one more quick glance around, he pulled out a length of rope, hooked it on a nail, then lowered himself into the opening.

"What's he looking for," Katsuro whispered.

"Food," she said breathlessly.

Katsuro couldn't believe all this fuss for a kid stealing food. How many times had he done the same—

"And I'm gonna starve him out," she said ruthlessly, then launched out of their hiding spot.

The sharp edge to her voice made Katsuro go cold.

Was she really going to go after that kid, _knowing_ he needed food, and deliberately thwart him?

She couldn't be that cruel... Could she?

Disbelief and anger warred within him. He had told himself she wasn't like the rest of them. Sakura was different. Wasn't she?

But Katsuro could only watch as the scene unfolded before him. The boy, alerted somehow to the incoming sounds, hoisted himself back through the opening and hurtled empty-handed over the side of the roof into the darkness. Sakura landed mere moments later. She inspected the roof, grabbed the rope, then leapt into the dark alley after him.

Katsuro blew out the breath he didn't realize he'd been holding. He frowned deeply.

What the hell was she doing?

Was _this_ her mission — to catch that kid and turn him in? If so, then Katsuro wished he hadn't said anything.

Old feelings reached out from his past and stirred his anger. That kid didn't do anything wrong. And if he was starving, then the ones who were supposed to care for him weren't doing their job.

Katsuro wanted to go down there, rip that shed open and pull out all the food that kid would ever need.

Instead, he flung himself back against the leafy hillside and stared up at the jagged pattern of leaves. How could she...

He felt stupid. And wounded. And, inexplicably, betrayed. Sakura's behavior now clashed horribly with what he remembered of her.

Katsuro grabbed up a handful of leaves, grinding them in his fist.

But he had to admit that he knew very little about her. Perhaps she was just like everyone else in Konoha. Only following orders, serving their own needs. Abandoning anyone once their usefulness was at an end. Even little kids. Especially little kids.

Katsuro opened his hand slowly and watched the shattered pieces fall from his fingers. He pushed the fragmented memories from his mind, willing the anger that came with them to fade.

He told himself not to give up on her yet. He had believed she was different two summers ago, enough to put his life on the line for her. He hoped she still was.

And he hoped the boy got away.

Katsuro flopped his arms wide, heaved a sigh. His assignment was finished. But he could wait around another day and see how this turned out, he thought, and let his eyelids slide closed.

It wasn't until the middle of the next day that Katsuro caught sight of her pink hair again. She was heading down the main road, and this time she had a bushel basket with her.

He narrowed his eyes, a knot forming in his stomach. She was on the hunt.

Hopping from limb to limb, Katsuro stayed even with her as she followed the curve of the road all the way down the hill.

At the village paling, she stopped. Basket propped on her hip, rucksack tucked under her arm, she spoke to a few old farmers. They pointed down a footpath carved between the woodland and the scraggly patchwork of fields.

Katsuro anticipated her. Following the path, he kept to the branches, alert for anything. He wasn't entirely sure what she was looking for, but—

A splash echoed through the bushes ahead of him, followed by a giggle.

Katsuro slowed his steps. He leapt fluidly into another tree, buckling his knees at the last moment to keep the branch from bouncing. One look down, though, and dreadful certainty settled in his gut. He'd found them.

Katsuro knelt quietly at the crook of the branch. Now all that was left to do now was wait for Sakura to find her quarry.

The sun filtered down through the trees, warming Katsuro's back and dappling the thick, high grass on the bank beneath him. Below the bank, four children were mucking around in a shallow run-off stream tucked deep within some woody shrubs.

Beyond the sheltering bushes wound the footpath, partially obscured from view. Those kids would probably never see her coming, he thought.

Though their pants and shirts were rolled up, it couldn't hide the tatters and patches. They joyfully soaked each other. Only their splashes and the occasional laughter gave away their location.

They were quite small, Katsuro noted, and he wasn't sure if they were too young to be out on their own or not. But even without supervision, these children stayed close together. Though they happily soaked each other, they did not play with the same reckless abandon that most other children seemed to have.

Katsuro rubbed a hand over the back of his neck. Innately, he knew why. There was no one to watch them. They were orphans. Like him.

Movement fluttered at the edge of his vision. Sakura was coming down the footpath, moving cautiously, shifting the basket off her hip.

He tightened his grip on the branch. The kids splashed softly, unaware. But she had already seen them.

Katsuro's heart thudded in his chest.

Sakura slowly lowered the basket to the ground at the edge of the path. Katsuro eased to standing.

Part of him wanted to yell the kids, tell them to run, get away. But he held back. Part of him wanted to believe in her. Still.

Sakura paused. She pulled the basket farther out into the path, making sure it was clearly visible.

Katsuro narrowed his eyes. 'What is she doing?'

The kunoichi looked low around the trees and bushes, scanned the landscape.

'She's cutting off escape routes,' he thought.

Satisfied, she quietly snaked a hand around to her pack, pulled out a couple peaches. Then she approached soundlessly, holding the fruit at the ready.

Sakura ducked off the path and came down through the bushes, to the sandy bend in the stream that was their access point. In the next breath, she burst through the leaves and out onto the sand.

The children froze where they stood, like rabbits. Their eyes were big, frantically searching for any way to get out.

But Sakura had them hemmed in. She moved deliberately, holding the fruit out at one side.

"Hi," she said sweetly. "Do you guys like peaches?" She squatted down slowly, dropped her rucksack and fished a few more peaches out. But she never took her eyes off them. "I need your help. I need to find—"

In unison, the children all shifted there focus beyond her shoulder. Someone was approaching from behind her, from somewhere up the grassy bank.

Katsuro looked down, surprised. A boy stood up suddenly from the deep grass and was making his way down toward Sakura. The kid had positioned himself between the stand of trees and the stream, right where he could keep an eye on everything. From Katsuro's angle, he had completely missed him.

Sakura stood and turned, following the children's gaze. Her face registered mild surprise that he had concealed himself so well, and something else. Confirmation. This was the boy from last night. This who she was looking for.

"I am a kunoichi from Konohagakure," she said, all sweetness gone. "I need to—"

"We don't need you, outsider," he said angrily, spitting towards her feet. "Get out of here, and leave us alone."

'Damn kid,' Katsuro thought, suddenly angry with the boy. 'You should have run when you had the chance.' Katsuro almost couldn't bear to watch her haul him in.

Sakura only hitched up an eyebrow at the rough-edged kid, but she wasn't dissuaded.

"I am a medic," she declared in a steely voice. "And I need to see the little girl with the burn."

All the woods seemed to freeze at her demand. The boy had two hard fists at his sides. Sakura stared him down, resolve clear on her face.

Katsuro's mouth hung open. He could hardly believe what he was hearing.

"That girl is going to get sicker unless someone treats her," she continued. "I know she has an infection. Probably already has a fever..." She stopped, watching the boy closely. "Chills? Tired?"

The boy turned his head away. It was apparent that Sakura was right.

Just then a little low moan came from the deep grass where the boy had been sitting. Katsuro saw a foot shift in the grass. Someone was lying on their side. Probably the girl she wants to see.

Katsuro figured it all out only an instant before Sakura revealed it herself.

"I have a full basket of food, breads and meats too. It's just there, under the tree," she said, pointing back up the path.

"Oh, I see it!" came an exuberant cry from the stream.

"And a whole bag of fruit," she said, flicking her finger at the bag on the ground.

"You can have it all if you just let me see her."

This was her plan. Starving him out. She wanted to see the girl, bargain with food. Katsuro was astounded. And relieved.

The boy stood still. Behind her were soft little splashes, the younger children torn between wanting to collect the food and not disobey the older boy.

Another soft whimper from the grass decided it though. The boy dropped his dark head, then stepped to the side, letting Sakura pass. He never looked at her, only kept his eyes fixed on the spot where the girl was lying.

Katsuro pressed himself against the tree, but Sakura was too intent on the girl to notice anything else.

Kneeling, she disappeared in the high grass. A tense hush fell over pleasant setting now. The boy watched anxiously, his large black eyes fixed on the spot in the grass. The rest of the children huddled at the edge of the bank.

"Were you using this to cool her forehead?" Sakura said, holding something that Katsuro couldn't make out. The boy nodded ashamedly, tears beginning to streak down.

"No, you did the right thing," she said, her voice soothing. "But we need to get her someplace more comfortable."

And in the next moment, Sakura was standing with the girl in her arms. Katsuro only caught a glimpse of her as she turned, the little girl was flushed but shivering. Angry purple marks streaked up her forearms.

"She's going to be fine," Sakura said, nodding at the boy. "Come on. I need your help."

The boy scrubbed his arm over his face, and ran after her.

"Grab the food. I brought enough for everyone," she called over her shoulder.

The boy hauled up the basket by himself, and the younger children tussled over who would carry the sack. Finally after loosing quite a few, one took the sack and each child carried a piece of fruit. Katsuro watched them wind back up the path, Sakura striding at the head of the line and the children following behind like ducklings.

Katsuro landed softly in the empty space. Just moments ago, this had been the setting of a tense standoff. The easy peacefulness had returned.

A slip of color caught his eye. Nestled in the grass beneath one of the shrubs was an orange that had escaped their notice. Katsuro scooped it up and bounced it in his hand, thinking.

He was wrong about her. Just as the boy had been. He supposed both of them were used to thinking the worst of people. It was second nature when you had to do it to survive.

But she was the exception, he thought, pitching the orange high and catching it handily. It didn't matter that she was from Konoha. He wouldn't doubt her again.

Katsuro pocketed the orange and softly padded up the trail after them.

At the edge of the road, he caught sight of the last of the children turning between two buildings. Seeing no one around, he didn't bother with a henge. Just a few steps to cross the road, then he bounded onto a roof, following their progression through the maze of alleys.

The line of children flickered in and out beneath zig-zags of laundry. But finally they came to an open courtyard with an old shed at one side. The children settled down to eat their fruit while Sakura disappeared with the girl inside the tumble-down building.

Katsuro found a spot on the roof where he could observe out-of-sight, stretched his legs out in front of him and peeled his orange.

In the course of the long afternoon, the boy came and went from the shed. Sometimes carrying out rags, sometimes fetching fresh water in old buckets. But Sakura stayed inside with the girl.

Sometimes, Katsuro thought he saw a faint green glow at the dark window.

It was only when the sun was hanging low in the sky that the boy finally came out, stood still and just looked around. It was clear he didn't know what to do with himself.

Finally, the boy plopped down and just waited.

Sakura came out before too long. She was tired, Katsuro could tell. She shifted her weight and folded her arm across her stomach.

She spoke quietly to the boy, who only nodded impassively. He thought maybe Sakura was lecturing him. But when she reached down impulsively and tousled his hair, Katsuro smiled. Maybe not, he thought.

Sakura stepped back inside the shack again, and Katsuro could see the boy clearly. Beneath his ruffled black hair and big tired eyes he was smiling too, beaming. Katsuro wondered just what she'd said to bring that about.

Sakura came back out momentarily, spoke to him one last time, waved to them all, then disappeared back up the alley.

Hopping to the edge of the building Katsuro watched her slow progress up the old road, before darting back to the woods to make his way to their meeting spot.

And though he still waited for several hours for her, he was not terribly surprised when she didn't show up that night. A little disappointed, but they hadn't agreed on it. He stretched back on the boulder beside the pool and watched the moon slip behind the trees. She probably just fell asleep.

He decided he'd never tell her what he saw, or what he had thought of her. Instead he would amend his thinking. Trust was something he'd never had much use for. But he would try. For her.

Katuro clasped his hands under his head and breathed deeply, contentedly, before closing his eyes.

* * *

Distantly aware of something digging into her thigh, Sakura rolled onto her back, away from the discomfort. But sunlight only burned into her eyelids then. She groaned and threw an arm over her face, but more sleep now was completely out of reach.

Rubbing her eyes, Sakura yawned.

'I don't even remember going to sleep last night.'

A quick pat-down of her clothes filled in the rest of the story. She had fallen asleep waiting for the right time to meet Katsuro. She hadn't even changed clothes.

Sitting up stiffly, she pulled the offending skirt clasp out from underneath her leg and sighed. She had missed seeing him. And she had to leave today.

She washed up quickly, straightened her outfit as best as she could and headed downstairs. Maybe she could catch him before—

But the sight at the bottom of the steps stopped her in her tracks.

Hands on his hips, hidden by the cream folds of his sleeves, the innkeeper looked down at the disheveled boy in front of him with deep dismay. The boy only nodded solemnly, face hidden by his black hair. His back was straight, shoulders up, but his head was bowed.

The innkeeper looked up at Sakura questioningly. It was clear the boy had confessed to his petty thefts. She sighed. She almost hated to confirm it. But she nodded back at the innkeeper slowly. Yes, this was his thief.

"Well, well," the innkeeper murmured.

The boy caught sight of Sakura, then instantly looked back down again. His face was moderately cleaner than it had been, as if he'd scrubbed it before he'd come.

Sakura came to a halt at the bottom of the steps, sunk her hands down on her hips. This threw over the other half of her plan. She intended to take the innkeeper with her to see the need of these children before explaining what the eldest had done to support the rest.

But this young man had taken it on himself to right his wrongs. She was very proud of him, but she had hoped to keep him from any serious punishment. He was doing what he had to do to survive.

"I have been treating his sister who is recovering from a burn. Perhaps you would like to join me this morning," she said to the innkeeper. "I think, as much as you care for your town, you would find it very...illuminating."

The innkeeper nodded at her, gathering that there was something else behind her words.

The walked in silence down the nearly empty road, the three of them striking such an odd picture. A foreign kunoichi, a man in flowing silks, and a tattered boy. She just hoped that the innkeeper was as kind as he presented himself to be.

They stepped over the board and into the thin alley. Sakura glanced back at the man. He bunched the edges of his robe up to in his hands, and his face was tight with shallow breathing to keep out the stench. Sakura pinched her lips, but the boy moved ahead unaffected. The innkeeper glanced around at the laundry, the trash, the fetid water, but said nothing. Sakura wondered if he knew places like this even existed in his own town.

When they reached the courtyard, and the children tumbled out at the sound of the boy. But they stopped suddenly at the sight of the medic and the taller man in the silk robes. Everything seemed frozen for a second. But the boy broke the silence.

"She feels a little better," he said quietly, not lifting his eyes, and motioned to the door.

Sakura followed him in. At length, the innkeeper peeked through the door. It was nothing more than a dirt floor with the children's blankets rolled and piled at one side. But in the middle was the sister. Sakura sat on her knees beside her, head close to hers, speaking softly. She laid her hand on her arms, one at a time, and covered them with a soft green glow. The boy sat beside her, watching intently.

"She's coming along just fine," she said to him quietly. The innkeeper ducked back out, leaving her to her healing work.

When Sakura came back outside, she found the innkeeper pacing around, fingers to his chin, cream silks trailing through the dust, forgotten.

"I didn't know," he said to her seriously. He put his hands up. "I didn't even know this was here!"

She nodded sympathetically. "They are very good at hiding. It took me until yesterday afternoon to find them again.

"The eldest boy stole the food and was taking care of the younger ones. The girl was burned when she got too close to the fire." Sakura sighed. "They are all orphans. And I'm not sure if any of them are even related. But they are all family now." She stole a glance to see how he took this information.

It wasn't Sakura's place to tell him how to mete out his punishment, but hopefully if he saw that the boy was the only one responsible for the younger ones then he would be kind.

"I see," said the innkeeper seriously, smoothing his hair back out of his face. "I see," he said. "We simply can not have this, however."

Sakura cringed.

"Young man," he called to the boy. Sakura didn't want to think what was coming. The boy came out quietly and stood beside her. Head down. Sakura bit her lip.

"Stealing is not good for anyone. How long did you plan on providing for your 'family' in this manner," the innkeeper said sternly. Sakura couldn't take it.

"Sir—" she said. But the innkeeper put up a hand to stop her opposition. Apparently had worked out a plan of his own.

"If there is a crime," he said seriously, "then there has to be a punishment. Or at least some way to learn from our misdeeds."

The innkeeper tipped his head and narrowed his eyes at the boy, sizing him up.

"Instead of stealing," he continued, his voice softer, "would you be amenable to _working_ for your room and board?"

The boy blinked large black eyes at him, then looked to Sakura. Sakura was just as surprised as he was, but smiled encouragingly at the boy.

"You mean, for money?"

"Actually, I need some help with things around the inn, from someone who I can rely on. There is some extra space I can turn into living quarters, so you would all be close by—"

"For all of us?" the boy blurted out.

"Well, yes. If you think you'd be up to the task..."

"Of course!"

Wide eyes blinked back from the window, the open doorway. The boy spun around to tell the others. It was the first time Sakura had seen him act anywhere near his age.

The innkeeper stepped closer to Sakura.

"Can the little girl be moved?" he said quietly.

"Yes," Sakura said. "Let me change her bandages, and she should be fine. She just needs rest."

She glanced at the door, the four young children listening with growing excitement to the eldest boy. That was a large addition to any household. Perhaps the innkeeper didn't realize how many there were. But he was watching the tender scene too and smiling along with them.

"But...are you sure you can manage..." her voice thinned. That was a large addition to any household, let alone an inn.

"They need help. I'll figure out something," he smiled at her. "Thank you, Sakura-san."

His gratitude warmed her. If she'd found a passel of children starving in Konoha, she'd have moved heaven and earth to help them too. She understood now that she and the innkeeper were very similar, just in different lines of work.

Which reminded her... She had a long walk home.

Sakura mentioned to the innkeeper that she needed to be on her way. She rewrapped a few of the bandages, gave some quick instructions as to changing them, and said goodbye to the little girl, charging her to always watch out for the boy.

"Because everyone needs someone looking out for them," she said with a small smile. The little girl laughed while the boy frowned, slowly catching on that they were talking about him.

Outside, the children gathered around for farewells. She dug into her hip pack for lemon candies for each of them, repeating the instructions for the rice paper wrapper for the second time in as many days.

But Sakura noticed the boy hung back.

He was too big to throw his arms around her like the little ones did. But he stood close by, and looked as if he would like to say something, but did not know what.

She tousled his hair again and smiled. He let her, clearly relishing the little bit of attention.

"He's a good man," she said nodding to the innkeeper who was busily inspecting what, if anything, should be taken with them. "And I think you will have a lot in common. You both do what others will not."

But the boy frowned lightly. "Do you mean steal?"

"No," she smiled. "You help. You kept everybody alive. And you did what was right. You should be proud of yourself."

He looked away, embarrassed.

"Thanks," he mumbled.

Sakura patted his shoulder and turned to go, but the boy stopped her by suddenly throwing thin arms around her waist.

"Thanks," he said, voice muffled. But before Sakura could respond, he'd let go just as quickly. In an instant he was a step away from her, wiping the tears from his eyes with a ragged sleeve.

"Don't forget what I told you," she whispered.

"I won't," he said, smiling past the tears.

She smiled back gently and waved farewell to the little group. The innkeeper accompanied her partway up the alley.

"I'm afraid you hired me to find assailants and train your men to form a guard. I don't think I succeeded in either very well."

He laughed. But Sakura was serious.

"No, I think I had it all wrong, didn't I," he said.

Sakura politely looked away.

"Those threats are out there, but I think it's more important to help where I can."

She understood perfectly.

"Besides, you did catch the thief!" he laughed. She nodded. Mission complete.

Picking up her pack at the inn, Sakura allowed herself a long look down the merchant's road to the west. But her path took her straight down the hill. Sighing, she hoisted the pack onto her shoulders, then set off.

Once past the sweeping valley, Sakura snuck a glance back over the barley fields toward the wooded ridgeline.

Katsuro was probably long gone. She had missed him. And she had no hope of him hanging around during the day time. If he was there, she hoped he'd pop out of the woods, give her a sign. But there was nothing.

So she trudged over the hill and down into the rolling barley fields. A lot had happened since she'd passed through there just a few short days ago. Sakura's mind drifted. The crops and road melted together, and she moved unthinking over the rise and fall of the land.

So it was with a great deal of surprise that she heard someone clear their throat loudly nearby. She snapped her head up.

Propped against a fence post, knee up, face hidden under a battered straw hat, a farmer leaned casually as if he'd been waiting there all day. But Sakura hadn't noticed anyone moments before.

The straw hat was familiar, though. Everything about him was familiar. He pulled out a hand out of his pocket, dragging it slowly over the back of his neck.

"Katsuro," she breathed, a bright smile lighting up her eyes. Even if she wanted too, she couldn't hide her feelings now. She was so happy to see him.

He knocked the brim back and grinned broadly.

His own smile mirrored hers. He trusted her now, absolutely. An unfamiliar warmth unfurled in his chest at the thought of it. Though he'd never tell her about what brought him to this epiphany, he felt it just the same.

"So, how did it go?" he said stepping out to walk with her. He had returned to the oversized farmer's outfit. But there was no cart this time.

"Good," she said with a smile.

"What happened to the kid? Get in trouble?"

"No," Sakura said. "I think he's going to be alright."

"Really?" he said, surprised.

"Yeah," she answered slowly. "He confessed, actually. All on his own."

Sakura was silent, clearly weighing what to say, so Katsuro waited.

"He was stealing food for himself and some other kids," she said at last. "One of them got burned while he was cooking."

"Ah," said Katsuro, nodding solemnly. That's what was going on, he thought. But there was still one unanswered question.

"So," he said slyly. "The boy confessed. What magic words did you use to bring about this dramatic change?" His tone was light, but his eyes were serious.

But Sakura just shook her head. "No magic words. He was a good kid doing his best in a bad situation."

"Come on, you must have said something that got him thinking." He knew she did, even if she didn't realize it. And he wasn't about to let it go. She hadn't threatened him with force or fear, hadn't manipulated him with a bribe or a genjutsu. What the hell did she do?

Sakura frowned gently and cleared her throat. She curled an errant lock behind her ear, and began to recount her pep talk with no small amount of embarrassment.

"Well," she said at length, "I told him... I told him that it didn't matter what happened, it was only how he fixed it that counted."

Katsuro's eyebrows hitched up, but she pushed on.

"He had done his best to help the little girl, even though he didn't know how. He never gave up."

She cleared her throat again and gave him a lopsided smile.

"I told him that was his ninja way," she admitted quietly.

Katsuro looked at her with amused disbelief.

"And I told him that I believed in him," she rejoined strongly. "That he'd figure out a way to get through this. Because, you know, he..." But her voice trailed off.

"Never gives up?" Katsuro filled in for her, expression teasing.

"Yeah. Something like that," she muttered.

Katsuro was silent, but his eyes glittered. His mouth curled into an easy smile. He should have known her answer would surprise him.

"Hmm, a pep talk for a criminal..." He waited to see her roll her eyes, then leaned closer, grinning wickedly. "Are you sure you're a ninja?"

Sakura punched him solidly on his arm.

"Ow," he bounced back, rubbing the outside of his shoulder. "Yeah, you are," he said laughing weakly.

And she joined him in laughing at the folly of it all. The heat of the day was forgotten, as was the long way to go or the distance already covered. Even the fear of Katsuro's being discovered was a distant memory. All that was real was the road, the golden barley, and the two of them, walking and talking and laughing.

"You probably saved his life," Katsuro said, sobering finally.

But she wanted none of his praise.

"He saved his own life. I just helped out where I could. After all," she said with a wry laugh, "I was paid to catch him—"

Sakura's mouth snapped shut. She had said too much.

He had guessed most of her mission anyway, but she'd vowed not reveal anything. And now he knew _everything_. Great. Just great.

'Some ninja I am,' she chastised herself and looked away across the sun-baked field.

On the road, two blue shadows melted into one. Sakura felt the scrape of skin at her arm. Then, in the next instant, Katsuro's voice was at her ear.

"I told you I don't care about it," he said, gently bumping her with his shoulder as they walked.

"I'm curious," he shrugged, "and I'd like to help if I can. But I don't care," he said quietly.

"I just like doing stuff with you." Then he looked away.

Weighed down by their thoughts, they walked quietly side-by-side for a while. But Katsuro was the first to break the silence.

"Hey Sakura-chan," he said lightly, but the gaze he fixed on her was calculating.

A corner of her mouth tugged up into a smile. He'd been working out things out, coming up with some sort of plan. She should have known.

"Do you have more of these missions?" he said. Her smile fell. If he saw it, then he ignored it. "I have 'errands' all over. If you know where you'll be, I could...you know...meet you."

"W-What?" she stammered, but Katsuro's thoughts were leaping ahead.

"It would be just like this!"

"You mean, like this mission?" she said.

"Yeah. Like partners..."

"Partners?"

"Teammates!"

"...teammates..." she echoed softly.

"You'd be doing your job, I'd be doing mine, but we'd be near enough to help each other out. And at night we could hang out. It'd be great!"

Now it was Sakura's turn to mull all the variables. She looked up the road and considered all the ways she could get into to trouble. And tried to ignore the growing bubble of excitement at how much fun that would be.

A clanging sounded from somewhere ahead of them. Both looked up. They had forgotten about the possibility of other travelers.

Katsuro shrugged. "I can't go much further anyway," he muttered, thumbing back up the road they'd just walked. Sakura was surprised, she just assumed he was going her way.

Katsuro's fingertips grazed her forearm. The hair at her collarbone ruffled.

"Just tell me when and where," he said with sudden earnestness. "You don't have to tell me anything else."

His gaze skimmed over her cheeks, her forehead, then back to her eyes — as if memorizing her features — before he spoke again.

"We can try it, just once, see how it goes," he said. "Ok?"

Sakura took in his tanned face, his brown eyes, soft and hopeful.

She had to admit he was very persuasive. He made the risk seem small, the happy outcome assured. That whatever problems they might encounter, they'd be in it together.

But Sakura didn't need persuading. He had already addressed her concerns, allayed her fears. Neither wanted the other to get in trouble, and they both wanted the same thing: to carve out a little more time together. If this was how it would be, then meeting up with him while on her missions might actually work.

She'd try it. Just once. For him.

"Ok," she said simply.

Katsuro's face went slack. His feet stopped moving.

"O-Okay?" he said, hands hanging limp at his sides.

She nodded. Apparently he thought she'd be harder to convince.

"I'll be back in this country in two weeks time," she said, backing away slowly. "On the trade road, close to the western border, there's a town with a popular hot spring—"

"I know where it is," he said, face was tight with determination. "I'll be there."

"Ok," she said with a small smile.

He took a step towards her, but the sound of the approaching traveler was growing stronger. He stopped again.

Still backing away, Sakura waved a quick, silent farewell.

"Go out for a walk. I'll find you," he said in a loud whisper. His broad smile returned, crinkling up the corners of his eyes.

Sakura had a moment to marvel inwardly that his happiness could make her happy as well, when the rattle of a cart sounded from just around the bend.

Both their eyes flashed wide with panic.

Katsuro dove for the cover of the barley rows, while Sakura turned toward the approaching sound and did her best to look of like a weary, _solitary_ traveler.

An old farmer scuffed around the curve of the road, back bent, head down. Sakura breathed a sigh of relief. He was more preoccupied with pushing his cart full of produce to notice anything amiss.

That is, until a loud voice echoed from across the fields behind her.

"Two weeeeks!"

The man jerked his head up, squinting at her from under his old hat.

"You say somethin' missy?"

Sakura laughed nervously.

"Uh...I said... 'Some heat,'" and she drug the back of her hand across her forehead. "Whew!"

The farmer was appeased. He grumbled a response and trudged past her.

After he was out of earshot, she really did breathe a sigh of relief.

This mission had been nothing like she expected. Sakura tucked a curl behind her ear. The thought of Katsuro's last exuberant call brought an easy smile back to her face.

Sakura adjusted the straps of her pack, let her footsteps fall into a regular cadence. The long walk home held more appeal than it usually did — this time, she had a lot to think about.

* * *

**Author's notes**

This one is Sakura-centric, focusing completely on her mission, choices, etc. Kind of the answer to the Katsuro-centric chapters earlier on. Next chapter will move through several missions, focusing on their interactions and some trials and tribulations they are going through away from each other. But this has the spotlight on Sakura. Some themes from this chapter will be built upon, including Katsuro's background (Flashback chapter coming soon. Promise.).

This mission is a happy one, everything is straightforward and resolved easily. But they won't all be like this.

Longer chapter! I worry so much about the length of the chapters, that they are _too_ long. So it was nice to hear that everyone wanted a longer one.

Hope you enjoy! Thank so so so much for the reviews, faves and alerts! Tried to pm everyone I could. Check the website for more notes!

**

* * *

Chapter notes**

• _Even though Konoha was days away, she could still hear her parents' voices ringing in her ears, as if they were right beside her. "Why would you want to get involved? Their troubles have nothing to do with you. You could get hurt...or worse. Just stay out of it. It will all work itself out, you'll see." _— My opinion about Sakura's parents in the manga is that they are not ninjas, but still support their daughter. However, their absence in her life makes her on par with Naruto, Sasuke and Sai's orphan status. (The other rookies, except Tenten,, all have their parents present. Yes, I know, they're all in clans, but still.) So I think Sakura's bond with Team 7 is as strong as the others because they represent a different kind of family to her. In this story, I'm writing to that by making her driven to find a bond that she can't find at home. One that Naruto and eventually more of Team 7 will fill. Her family loves her, supports her, but still wishes she didn't do it. Not a lot of angst, I just think it's a more normal teen/parent relationship. Also is a minor parallel of Katsuro's memory of being told he'd never be a ninja. They both have to strive for the things they want.

• _Sakura sighed to herself. 'Can't find one set of kids. Can't shake the other.'_ — With the kids, I tried to portray Sakura as having both compassion and a short temper. She's (imho) often portrayed as downright mean or cloyingly sweet. I think she's neither. I think she's more like Naruto in many ways: hotheaded, stubborn, able to give compassion or a tongue-lashing as he/she sees fit (think about how Naruto treated the Inari in the Wave arc, both mean and nurturing), and immensely powerful. So I've tried to write to those complexities I see in her character. I hope it's come through!

• _But he had to admit that he knew very little about her. Perhaps she was just like everyone else in Konoha. Only following orders, serving their own needs. Abandoning anyone once their usefulness was at an end. Even little kids. Especially little kids._ — More to come on Katsuro's background. Obviously, a friendship with a Konoha kunoichi is going to stir up bad memories. But I also hope I covered any holes in their trusting each other. Katsuro may be crazy about her, but he's still part of Itachi's group. He's going to approach anything with caution, so I wanted to address that aspect of his personality. Hopefully by the end of the chapter, their trust and partnership is complete and moderately believable.

• _"Grab the food. I brought enough for everyone," she called over her shoulder. ... Katsuro pocketed the orange and softly padded up the trail after them. ... The children settled down to eat their fruit while Sakura disappeared with the girl inside the tumble-down building. Katsuro found a spot on the roof where he could observe out-of-sight, stretched his legs out in front of him and peeled his orange._ — Katsuro is also one of these kids. In life, he'll be a lot harder to sway than just by the promise of fruit. So he follows at a great distance. Anyway, it's a little metaphor for him.

• _But this young man had taken it on himself to right his wrongs. She was very proud of him, but she had hoped to keep him from any serious punishment. He was doing what he had to do to survive._ — Sakura understood all along what was going on with the boy, and why. What Katsuro thought of her was wrong, stemming from his upbringing. So Sakura and Katsuro are seeing the same thing but from different angles.

• _"You probably saved his life," Katsuro said, sobering finally. But she wanted none of his praise. "He saved his own life. I just helped out where I could."_ — another smallish theme. They all have the keys to their own success or demise.

• (_Katsuro's pov)_ _Katsuro was silent, but his eyes glittered. His mouth curled into an easy smile. He should have known her answer would surprise him. ... (Sakura's pov) A corner of her mouth tugged up into a smile. He'd been working out things out, coming up with some sort of plan. She should have known._ — parallel thoughts, sentence structure. Reinforces that they are coming to know one another.

• _He decided he'd never tell her what he saw, or what he had thought of her. Instead he would amend his thinking. Trust was something he'd never had much use for. But he would try. For her. ... If this was how it would be, then meeting up with him while on her missions might actually work. She'd try it. Just once. For him._ — another parallel, reinforcing their choice to trust one another.


	21. Perfect, Part 1

Chapter 21 - Perfect, Part 1

Padding down the tree-lined avenue to the Hokage's tower, Sakura stepped into the shadow of an old hardwood. Soft light flickered down around her, speckling her arms with blue shadows A few more steps, and she was back out in the dew-bright light of morning, with all of Konoha glistening around her.

Save for the birds and a few other early risers, the streets were empty and quiet. If she were a half-an-hour later, she would have missed the unusual peacefulness of the just-waking village. And the crystalline drops that glinted from the tip of every leaf would have been gone.

Breathing deeply, Sakura tipped her face to the sun, soaking in its warmth. Everything seemed brighter since her return to Konoha. People seemed friendlier, medic training and hospital shifts were easier — even her tedious Team 7 missions were more bearable.

The kunoichi practically floated through her daily routines. And though she would smile and act surprised when anyone remarked on her happy disposition, waving it off with a carefree excuse, Sakura knew with deep certainty where her good mood stemmed from. And she had to remind herself not say anything to anyone, knowing that soon — first weeks, then days — she'd be off on her next mission. And, with any luck, she'd see Katsuro again.

That thought alone had her taking the steps to the Hokage's office two at a time.

Keeping her eagerness in check, the kunoichi stood patiently at the broad desk, watching Tsunade's blonde head as she went over some paperwork.

"And you were happy with the last mission, Sakura?" the Hokage questioned, not looking up.

"Yes!" she said with a bright smile. "I thought it went off alright."

Tsunade sat back and appraised her student. Red nails tapped on the desk for a moment before she picked up a scroll that had recently arrived.

"Well, they were certainly happy with you," she said, handing her the missive. Sakura read it quickly, flushing at the kind words of the innkeeper.

Tsunade laid her hand over a small pile of scrolls, each end bearing colorful and unfamiliar wax seals. Sakura looked at them with a puzzled frown.

"Word travels fast," the Hokage said wryly to her apprentice. "You have been requested specifically for several missions."

Sakura's eyes went wide.

Tsunade chuckled. "Yes, I think this is enough to keep you occupied well into the autumn. And I'm sure there will be more."

"Wow..." Sakura said quietly.

Tsunade leaned back in her seat. "And you are still comfortable with these border country missions?"

"Hai, Tsunade-sama," she said quickly. "These have proved to be no more challenging than the ones within Fire Country."

The Hokage resumed drumming her fingers on the desk, silently considering the young kunoichi.

Almost imperceptibly, Sakura straightened her shoulders, forcing herself to withstand the scrutiny without flinching. If she had to guess, Tsunade was probably weighing her self-assured words, that she believed herself fully capable to handle these missions, against the risk these requests presented.

Finally, Tsunade blew out a long, low breath, having come to some decision. She sat forward and leveled a stern look at the girl.

"Do not let your guard down. Ever," she ordered. "Each country, each mission is unique. And I have little way of knowing which of these," she flicked her fingers at the pile of scrolls, "will cause you the most trouble."

Sakura nodded deeply.

"Take every precaution. As you well know, you are on your own out there."

"Hai, Tsunade-sama," the kunoichi said, pushing down the giddy urge to grin. But in her mind, she contradicted the Hokage. She knew she was no longer alone out there.

"These towns may have no problem begging for assistance," the Hokage grumbled, "but _you_ don't have that luxury."

She slid the pile of scrolls to the center of the desk. "As a Konoha kunoichi, the only ones you can ever trust are your fellow Leaf nins. And some of these will take you quite far from our borders. If you should need aid, it might be several days in getting to you..."

Sakura bowed her head. She took the Hokage's chiding as it was intended: It was the formidable woman's way of showing she cared. But she couldn't ignore the hesitation in Tsunade's voice.

"I do not take any mission lightly, Hokage-sama," Sakura said earnestly. "Whether within the Fire Country or without, I always take every precaution. And I will continue to do so."

The Hokage nodded again. Placated, she reached for the top-most scroll from the pile, and they settled in to review the requests.

The next day, as Sakura set off through the gates of Konoha, she was still mulling over Tsunade's words.

There was a definite pang of guilt at forging an alliance with a foreign shinobi. But Sakura knew she trusted Katsuro with her life, as much as she would with any other Konoha nin. Though she was venturing into the unknown, she wasn't afraid in the slightest. Contrary to what Tsunade believed, Sakura knew she wasn't alone out there.

* * *

Sliding the screen closed behind her, Sakura walked down the long, wide-planked porch, oblivious to the lush natural beauty around her.

'Isn't this place supposed to be relaxing,' she thought petulantly, pinching the bridge of her nose.

Sakura stopped, flattened her hands on the smooth wood rail, rolled her shoulders and breathed deeply. The air was warm and sweet, the happy side-effect of steamy vapor from the lauded hot springs. All around the building, leaves quivered. A pleasant burbling echoed up from somewhere beyond the thick vegetation.

The sound of water was everywhere in this resort town. From the bubbling of decorative waterfalls, to the slow hiss of steam from the public baths and private inns, to the steady knocking of the river through the center of town.

But none of that natural tranquility could infiltrate the stifling meeting room. All life ground to a halt in there.

For hours now, she'd sat at one end of a long table lined with greying men, looking on stonily as they tried to hammer out a trade agreement.

All heads of local families...and one young kunoichi. The irony wasn't lost on her.

The simpering politician at the other end of the table coddled the men, letting their squabbles drag on and on.

No high flying ideals here, she thought, remembering with renewed fondness the spirited innkeeper from her last mission.

She already had a full roster of missions where she was specifically requested, but this was not one of them. Her presence here was only tolerated. Though no one would utter a word of displeasure, Sakura couldn't ignore the unhappy looks she got from the men.

She wasn't hired by the town, specifically, but by the one who stood to lose the most: the fawning politician. He wanted to be in everyone's good graces. And the only way to do that in a town full of bickering clans was to keep everything open and above board.

On the surface, Sakura's presence made the meeting "official." But she knew her real purpose was to make sure the men stayed in line. Just being there would dissuade them from any underhanded deals, keep them too afraid to attempt any treachery when they were away from the long, low table.

Drawing one last breath of fresh air, Sakura returned to the oppressive room. She had a whole afternoon ahead of her to sit still and look mean. That thought alone brought back the dull throb of a headache. Resisting the urge to massage her temples, Sakura moved to her seat.

She cast a glance sideways down the glossy table as she walked. The men all wore different colors, different symbols, anything and everything to standout from their neighbors, but to her eye they all looked the same. All shifting eyes and sour expressions. And their contempt for her was second only to their contempt for each other.

But the politician ignored it all. At the other end of the table, he waited till Sakura was seated then swept his arms wide, smiled magnanimously, and began another round of negotiations. Sakura straightened her back, folded her hands in her lap and schooled her features to a formidable facade.

Then slowly, quietly, she set to squeezing the pressure points in her hands.

The long afternoon was a travesty: Hours of bargaining and haggling, only to have all the offers rescinded by the end. The politician smoothed it over, patted everyone on the back, praised their great effort and promised to fine-tune any niggling details tomorrow. Sakura gritted her teeth at the man's lie; she knew this mission was slated for three more days, at least.

Working hard to remain impassive, Sakura wondered not for the first time how Tsunade carried the weight of an entire village on her shoulders. A few hours of this, and she wanted to pull her hair out.

'More action, less talk,' she thought. 'Guess that's what makes me a kunoichi, not a politician.'

Sakura took her leave of the still-bickering group, bowing politely as if they'd actually accomplished something that day.

The farther she got from the building, the more rejuvenated she felt. So much so, that by the time reached the inn, Sakura was feeling energetic enough to help the old widow who ran it haul up the water for the night.

Sakura hurried across the courtyard to relieve the woman of her burden.

"Thank you," she groaned as Sakura eased the buckets from her hands. "I had a hired man, but he's left to make his fortune." She smacked her lips in disgust and shuffled toward the rustic inn. Sakura fell in behind her.

"Good-for-nothings these days," the old woman muttered to herself, winding effortlessly up the rickety stairs. Sakura had more trouble, stumbling several times, water splashing onto the odd-sized steps. But the woman didn't notice.

"Ready to jump at just the promise of coin," she grumbled louder, picking up some thought where she'd left it off. "But do you think they would tell me? No. I had to get that piece of news from the fishmonger."

Never stopping, the innkeeper simply pointed mid-sentence to a corner with a bucket-shaped ring on the floor.

"And she didn't want to tell me either, but I made her. I said, 'I can take my business somewhere else. There are plenty of fish in the market.' And that did the trick. So she said..."

Sakura pushed her lips into a thin line. There was nothing she could do but follow. The old woman nimbly picked her way back down yet another set of uneven stairs to a kitchen area, never relenting in her ramblings.

"News, news," floated back several times. More like gossip, Sakura thought. This woman could probably wrench a story from a stone. She sighed softly. The old widow loved getting "the news" as much as she loved sharing it. And Sakura was held hostage by a water pail.

Crossing the worn floor, Sakura found the bucket-shaped ring this time without being told. She plunked it down wearily, only aware as she stood that everything was silent. Sakura turned and blinked at the woman. At some point the one-sided conversation had stopped.

"You're a nice girl," the old woman said, patting her hand roughly. "Dinner will be ready shortly."

"Ok," Sakura said, a little dazed.

Sakura did, in fact, have something she'd like to speak to the woman about. However it warred with her feeling that she should get out of there before the innkeeper had her cooking her own dinner.

But it was important. Sakura was only going to ask about scenic walks, expecting to be given a little privacy in her comings and goings. Now she felt sure she should let the old innkeeper know she planned to go out tonight, and possibly every night. If not, the sharp-eyed woman would surely turn her talents to figuring out what the Konoha kunoichi was about.

Sakura's mouth curved into a calculating smirk. Perhaps she could try a little of the woman's craftiness.

"Your town is so lovely," she gushed. "The prettiest I've seen, and I've traveled to quite a few places. And the hot springs are delightful. But surely there are more places here that are just as beautiful," she drawled. "You know, off the beaten path? Like someplace I could take a walk to, maybe after dinner?"

Then Sakura had a stroke of inspiration. "Many villagers ask me about my trips, where I've been and _where I've stayed_..." She let the thought hang in the air for a moment. "So anything you could tell me about the area would be greatly appreciated."

Waving her hand, the widow turned her back to Sakura. The kunoichi thought she might have offended her. But the woman lit up a little fire, straightened, and launched into the virtues of her town.

"I don't tell everyone this, but I'll make an exception for you. There are many beauties here, but all the visitors ever think about are the springs, the springs." The woman scooped up a handful of mushrooms and threw them into the sizzling pan. Then, without turning, she pointed to a jug full of long, fat chopsticks and held out an open hand. "For instance, there is one walk, lined with stones, that takes you high up into the forest..."

Sakura drew a deep breath and began handing over utensils while the old woman cooked and talked. Well, she thought, at least she wasn't cooking her own meal, just helping.

But she got her information, and more importantly a cover in case she did meet up with the rogue. And the modest meal, though delicious, was soon behind her.

Ducking out of the courtyard, Sakura set off into the hush of early evening. The woman's directions were accurate: She easily found the graveled walk, lined by a low stone wall, that ran toward the densely wooded hills above the town.

The path crossed a bridge over the sluggish river, but Sakura did not pause at the touted landmark as the innkeeper insisted she should. She kept going, up the ancient stone steps, climbing farther and farther into the blueing hillside.

The kunoichi moved steadily, purposefully. The hope that she'd lived with for the last few weeks surging within her. But as she crunched up the steps, she told herself to be calm. Be realistic. Things don't always work out.

Wind pushed through the trees and caught her attention. Sakura stopped and breathed deeply, looking back down at the valley. She'd come quite far without even realizing it.

In the dying light, the river looked like a soft green ribbon winding through the town. Plumes of steam hung in the air. Only the red lanterns, just being lit along the streets, shone in soft rose spots through the cottoning drifts.

The town looked as peaceful as its hot springs were reputed to be. But Sakura turned her back on the picturesque valley.

And the view ahead of her stole her breath.

A dense forest of bamboo trees towered over the path, pushing in on either side of the low stone walls. Overhead, the feathery canopy clouded together. If not for the curving graveled walk, the forest would be impenetrable.

Sakura slowed her pace, taking it all in.

All around her, the uniform trunks swayed gently. Vertical lines of every shade of green stretched to the sky, as if each tree were vying for the same scraps of blue.

The wind softened to a whisper. Crunching up the path, Sakura's footfalls sent thin slivers of leaves swirling from her feet. At the next bend in the walk, the town disappeared completely from view behind her.

Sakura was unexpectedly soothed by the quiet rustle of leaves. No simpering politicians or prattling innkeepers here. Not even the constant sound of water that permeated every corner of the town carried up to this secluded spot.

She had to admit the old woman was right, this was a remarkable place. But Sakura also knew she had to stay on alert.

The lines of bamboo were deceptively beautiful. Any other visitor might be able to marvel unreservedly at the natural symmetry. Yet Sakura's training kept her from feeling completely at ease.

Looking straight into the woods, all perspective was lost. The rigid emerald lines played tricks on the eyes. Squinting hard, Sakura couldn't discern where one tree ended and another began.

And the black shadows behind the bamboo were a perfect hiding place. An attacker could be standing mere feet from you, and you simply wouldn't know it.

However, if she thought like Katsuro, this would be the perfect spot to meet. He could appear in front of her, then dissolve back into the thicket at a moment's notice.

The cool evening air scattered the papery leaves again, ruffling the edge of her hair. But the breeze that stirred around her throat was a little warmer, more tangible. Somehow, it reminded her of him. Perhaps he was here—

"Sakura," a voice came softly from the trees behind her.

She spun around, already smiling.

Katsuro stepped out from between the long lines of bamboo and stopped, one hand coming to rest on a fallen trunk that slanted in front of him like a bar.

With his other hand shoved carelessly in his pocket, he looked at her differently than he had in the past. Instead of his characteristic enthusiasm, Katsuro fixed her with a long, steady gaze. Like she was the only thing in the world. Sakura's cheeks felt suddenly warm.

Katsuro's shoulders rose and fell with a slow breath. It was as if something unwound inside him. As if some anxiousness or unease had abated. Never coming a step closer, Katsuro seemed content just to watch her, only a small half-smile slowly curving up his mouth. But his soft eyes held a measure of warmth that Sakura could nearly feel.

Sakura understood his look. He was grateful she had come. He must have doubted her, she thought.

She smiled tenderly back, guessing at what he would not tell her. That he had waited for her, hoping she would show up but not knowing if she would. Alone in these woods, with only doubt to keep him company. And the hope that she would keep her word.

But Sakura had a mission to do. For her, it was unthinkable not to come here. More than just an pretty promise, her mission was a hard-and-fast obligation, unchangeable. He was the one who came and went as he pleased.

But perhaps he didn't think about those things. Her eyes trailed down the comfortable curves of his form, the only break in the unyielding lines of bamboo. Perhaps, she thought with a stab of sympathy, he was out here only thinking about her.

Katsuro broke the stillness with a single nod of his head, beckoning her silently to come with him.

Snapping out of her thoughts, Sakura smiled back warmly. One hand on the low stone wall, she hopped over into the wilderness.

Sakura threaded through the bamboo trunks until she reached the slanted one. Then, ducking under that final obstacle, she looked up into Katsuro's smiling face. His familiar grin had returned. She matched it with a happy smile of her own. And, turning together, they disappeared into the swaying green bamboo thicket.

* * *

The rest of the mission fell away uneventfully. The only thing that made the daily tedium bearable was looking forward to seeing Katsuro each night.

And though she didn't so much as dip a toe into a hot spring while she was there, the long evenings spent in conversation above the glowing town were as soothing as any steaming bath could possibly be.

Their tentative trust was a thing of the past; they carried on as if they were inseparable partners. And it felt like they were. They laughed at each other, listened to one another's experiences...and steered clear of off-limits topics.

Katsuro shared some colorful stories about people he'd encountered in his travels. And Sakura cringed at some of his close scrapes. But in every story, she was pleased that his good nature carried him through. He was never cruel when he didn't have to be, and many times he helped when he could.

He recounted a story about repairing a fruit vendor's awning, and though he only gave the barest details, Sakura could tell he had done the old woman a great kindness. It reinforced her belief that he was a good person trapped in a bad situation.

It also struck her that his stories were of him only, by himself. She knew he had no friends in Itachi's band of thugs. And though he happily recounted these solo missions, Sakura couldn't help but think that his life seemed very empty.

So Sakura shared more about her her village and her friends. She filled the air around them with the activity of her life, as if he were a part of it. As if he should know the people and places she knew so well.

Sakura told him about the new things she'd learned in the two years they'd been apart. She spent a fair amount of time talking about her medical training, how much time she spent in the hospital and how much she learned about healing the body. He was rapt.

"Do you take classes," he asked, face bathed in the orange glow from the tiny fire he'd lit. "Like in your academy?"

"Nah," she said, giggling at the thought. "Most medics are civilians, but some are nins. And some of _those_ nins are part of a corp receiving special training from the Hokage herself."

"Your leader's a girl?" he snickered, teasing her. When Sakura frowned, ignoring him, he only laughed more. He'd forgotten that riling her up always gave him a little zing of pleasure.

She finally chuckled too, then kicked his foot. "She's not a girl, she's a warrior, and she'd kill you if she ever heard you say that." Sakura's tone dropped. "She's got a ferocious temper."

Katsuro reached off into the darkness beside him, feeling around for more firewood.

"She was one of the Legendary Sannin you know," Sakura continued.

Not turning back, Katsuro shrugged as if he didn't care. Truthfully, he _didn't_ know.

"Tsunade-sama fought against Hanzo... The leader of the Rain Village."

Momentarily confused, Katsuro's hand froze above a thin branch.

"You know, way back in the Second Shinobi War...?"

_Oh. Way back..._

Collecting himself, he grabbed a handful of twigs then turned without speaking and fed them into the fire.

But Sakura studied his profile, still waiting for some kind of response.

He snapped a twig and pitched it on, watching it smolder. There was simply nothing he could say. Inwardly he bristled at this history of the Leaf. A history which he knew nothing of, but that he was a product of none-the-less.

"Well," Katsuro grumbled finally, "your leader must be an old battle axe then." He hoped his insult would shift the topic back to things he _did_ have some opinion about.

"Oh no, she's not—"

"Probably mean as a snake, too" he continued, unable to stop the old anger from bubbling to the surface.

"No, she's—"

"Yeah, I can guess. She's just an old bi—"

"Hey!" Sakura snapped at him.

Katsuro shut his mouth and shifted his eyes away. Hopefully he appeared contrite, even if he didn't feel it. He knew better than to talk about these things.

Mildly exasperated, Sakura moved to correct the bad impression she must have given. "Tsunade-sama is tough, but she's fair. All the Konoha nins respect her, or are afraid of her. And she's taken me on as her apprentice, which is a great honor."

He shoved a few more branches into the fire, not meeting Sakura's gaze.

"And she's the one who sent me on _these missions_," Sakura said, tapping her shoe against his.

He dug his heels into the dirt and sighed. Point taken.

"So you're her apprentice?" Katsuro quietly rejoined, in lieu of an apology.

He had no idea what the honor was, but he let her talk about it anyway. It was better than him reopening old wounds for no purpose, with the added injury of losing time with her.

So he tried hard to listen. Which wasn't as hard a task as he thought it might be after the unexpected flare of his temper. Just as in the quiet temple two summers before, Katsuro found himself drawn in by her stories.

He even went so far as to ask about some of the cast of characters he remembered, bug boy and dog boy among them. The recollections set Sakura laughing. Her stories, his nicknames, it was a good combination.

Katsuro flicked a twig into the fire. He couldn't ignore the irony that Konoha had become some kind of common ground for them.

It also helped that he learned so quickly from his mistakes. Now if she referenced historical events, political events, _anything_ he wasn't sure of, he would just smile and nod. And the twinge of guilt he felt was brief.

But watching her recount a tale — firelight dancing across her face, shadows pooling around her mouth as she spoke, eyes glittering as she looked off recalling some forgotten detail — he realized that there was so much more she knew about the world.

He had traveled nearly everywhere, encountered every kind of lowlife imaginable. But she dealt with people he simply never thought about: the innkeeper...the children. Katsuro only paid attention to those who could kill him. Or capture him, he added darkly. The rest was just a blur.

But Sakura saw the bigger picture. She saw what others didn't — or wouldn't. He remembered the children on her last mission. She made a difference in their lives, brought them out of the darkness of their existence.

He breathed deeply. The memory suddenly brought to mind his own experience with her, throwing the windows open to the paneled room in the temple.

He may have known how to climb up that damned mountain, but it took her showing him what was there for him to truly appreciate it.

Katsuro leaned back, elbows sinking into the soft earth.

His mind often wandered through that brilliant painting. Sometimes he recalled the raucous illustrations of village life, the good and the bad. Sometimes he pondered on the mission of the monk, the one with the strange eyes. The one who battled the demon, his thoughts always whispered.

But most times he thought about the first panel. Her panel. Where the blossoming cherry tree stood alone on the rock, arcing out to touch the swirling waters.

Or did it? He wasn't sure.

Remembering it always made him feel cool, soothed, like somehow he had become part of the painting. Or maybe, he amended, the painting had become part of him.

Sighing deeply, Katsuro clasped his hands behind his head and stretched back against the ground.

He wished now he'd gone back in one last time to see the painting. Really look at it. Not just to close the room up. Then he would know for certain whether the two touched—

"You haven't heard a word I've said, have you?" Sakura's teasing voice cut across his thoughts. She tipped her head and slanted a knowing look at him.

Katsuro sat up immediately and grinned, rubbing the back of his neck.

Sakura shook her head, laughing at him. The movement dislodged a wayward curl from behind her ear.

"I...ah... I was thinking about your hair," he blurted out. Sakura's eyes widened in surprise, but he had to keep going. "I liked it shorter. But...I like it the way it is now, too." He cleared his throat. "I like it, I guess, is what I'm trying to say."

Even in the flickering glow of the firelight, Sakura's face betrayed her opinion of his stumbling compliment. Her cheeks looked a little more pink than they had been.

Katsuro smiled, covering his small, steadying breath. It was the truth, he did like her hair. Very much actually. He hadn't been dishonest.

_A truth to hide the other truths. That's not a deception, is it?_

"Tell me the last part again," he said smoothly. "I don't want to miss a thing." And he gave her an encouraging smile.

After a moment, Sakura curled the hair back, pulled her knees up and started again.

Katsuro stretched his arms out behind him, letting his fingers spread wide into the soft earth, and gave Sakura his full attention. He only moved when the low fire grew too warm on the fronts of his legs.

* * *

Sakura's last night they made definite plans to meet again. Sitting beside the small fire, she listed off the locations of her next three missions. The three after were not as firm, but she shared those locations too.

Katsuro listened quietly, eyes focused, obviously memorizing her schedule. He rubbed his hand over his mouth, thinking. But as he offered no other assurances that he'd meet her, other than his initial question about where she'd be next, Sakura found she couldn't bear the silence.

"I should be going," she said softly. He only nodded, and began putting out the fire.

As they walked out of the thicket, Sakura wondered if this was where their pleasant harmony would fail. Surely Katsuro couldn't meet her for all of them.

Though he'd never breathed a word of what he was doing, other than "errands," Sakura knew how his group operated. And Katsuro was not so low-down in their ranks to escape notice. His presence could be demanded at any time, and his absence would be a huge target for those bastards he was with.

Doubt crept in with the thoughts about the rest of his group. Maybe Katsuro was just being polite. Maybe he knew he couldn't meet her at all.

So she decided to give him a way to back out. And she could look forward to just functioning as a normal nin on a normal mission. Nothing to hide, no fear of discovery. And she wouldn't hold onto the hope of seeing him.

Sakura bit her lip. It was unfortunate that she realized all this only _after_ she'd disclosed the locations of the next three missions.

Oops.

But she trusted him, she reminded herself.

Reaching the wall, she swung one leg, then the next, over. Dusting her hands, she turned back to face him, still on the other side. "It's ok, if you can't make it. I won't—"

"No, I'll be there," Katsuro said firmly. "I'll figure it out somehow... But I'll be there."

She recognized that look of determination. Even in the dim light.

Sakura smiled, doubt wiped away. He meant what he'd said. He'd move heaven and earth to be there.

"Ok," she said simply.

They quietly worked out a system — she would take a walk, he'd find her — then she hurried back down the gravel path to the inn.

'This can work. This can work!' Sakura chanted inwardly as she landed on each step. She felt almost giddy. And the good feeling stayed with her.

Not one to miss anything, the old widow noticed her high spirits the next morning.

"Our waters have brought a glow to your face," the woman crowed and reached up to give Sakura a hard pinch on her cheek. Her black eyes fairly glistened with pride. "When your villagers ask you why you look so pretty, you make sure to send 'em my way!"

Sakura's eyes stung with tears, and when the woman finally let go, she massaged her fingers into the sore spot. She tried to smile politely, but it came out looking like a grimace.

Sakura was grateful, however. The red mark covered the guilty blush that had instantly risen in her cheeks. If the woman caught on to her embarrassment, she'd probably make her stay another night trying to find out the story behind it.

Sakura smiled tightly, but the woman just laughed at her and bid her safe travels. And the buoyant feeling stayed with her long after the pain in her cheek subsided.

* * *

Through the summer months, Sakura's missions came and went in a blur. None were difficult, all were forgettable.

If not for Katsuro's smiling face, the tasks would have held no pleasure at all.

And to her surprise, he made it to every one. Often catching her on the way, before their evening meet-up. Which seemed to delight him to no end.

Sakura discovered that Katsuro was quite a prankster.

He would pop out from behind a tree and fall into step with her. Sit on a limb and drop leaves down around her. Creep up behind and throw pebbles at her.

That was a particular favorite of his.

Sakura would continue on as if she didn't feel the tiny stones ping off her shoes or shoulder. Then she'd whip around, sure she'd catch him, but the lane behind her would be suspiciously empty.

Holding perfectly still, Sakura would listen hard to the sounds. The rustle of leaves, whisper of grasses. And beneath that was laughter.

She knew if she waited long enough, the soft snickering would always give him away.

Sakura had long ago learned to check the passerby or noise thoroughly before she drew her kunai. More times than not it was Katsuro.

But she'd learned that lesson the hard way.

Unknown to Sakura, Katsuro was waiting ahead on a trade road for her — "I was completely surprised too, Sakura-chan. I swear it! And there was just _nothing_ I could do to stop it!" — when the perfect opportunity for a prank approached him from behind.

Katsuro ducked off the road only to see a farmer pass by who looked just as wrinkled and ridiculous as one of his disguises. A wild thought struck — he bet Sakura would think the same thing. Hand clamped over his mouth to keep from giggling, Katsuro positioned himself behind another tree and waited for the inevitable to happen.

And, just as he'd hoped, the unsuspecting kunoichi fell for it. Sakura stopped the hapless old farmer, circling around him for some conversation. From his vantage point, Katsuro could clearly see her smirk, her knowing look. She was sure it was Katsuro. She even shook the cart, apparently teasing him about toppling the cart over weeks before in the barley field.

But when the man hollered out "Help!" to anyone that could hear, Sakura's face went slack. And that's when the real fun began.

Katsuro nearly doubled over laughing.

Sakura finally managed to untangle herself from the mess that ensued, sending the frazzled man on his way. Straightening her shirt, dusting her skirt, Sakura started back up the road, visibly relieved no one witnessed her mistake. It was only then that Katsuro stepped forward, one hand still propped on the tree, the other clutching his stomach, barely able to catch his breath from laughing so hard.

Sakura's face burned red. She feigned anger, but it didn't last. And his good humor was infectious.

Katsuro wanted to know all about what the man said, if she'd even noticed his increasingly uncomfortable looks. And then what she thought when he finally screamed to the treetops "Help!" and "Don't kill me!" and — his personal favorite — "Just take the cart!"

But Sakura wouldn't give him the joy of talking about it. She pointedly ignored him, and pretending to be overly focused on the whatever was growing at the edge of the road.

So Katsuro took it upon himself to recount his favorite moments. He mimicked her apology with glee, one hand grasping his shirt, the other flailing in the air. "But sir, I don't want your cart. I'm not going to hurt you!" he called out in an absurd falsetto.

Sakura rolled her eyes. And tried hard not to smile.

"And then when you ran after him—"

"Alright," Sakura said.

"And had to drag him back to the cart—"

"It's really not that funny," she interjected.

"And tell him that you weren't going to, going to—" he choked on a laugh. Sakura sighed and shook her head, not even trying to stop him.

"That you weren't going to _kill him_!" He dissolved into laughter, wiping the tears from the corners of his eyes.

"I'm glad you think this is so funny," she said, trying to sound as dismissive as she could. But she couldn't quite keep the smile out of her voice.

"Just think, Sakura-chan," he said sobering, eyes finally clear enough to see the road ahead. "He'll be talking about this for years to come. The time he was accosted on the road by a strange pink-haired thing that nearly killed him. And how he barely managed to escape."

The rest of that mission, Sakura would catch him chuckling to himself. Very soft and low, but Sakura knew what it was about. And he'd look back at her, eyes twinkling, obviously replaying some moment for the hundredth time.

Katsuro finally admitted that his favorite bit was the man's ridiculous panic-stricken face when she inadvertently brushed her thigh kunai as she moved to wave farewell. Eyes bulging with fear, the man bolted down the road, junk flying out of his cart, with only a dust cloud trailing behind him. Leaving Sakura standing in the road, yellow clouds swirling around her, hand stuck awkwardly out to the side in mid-wave.

That part got the most laughs from Katsuro, even days later. Sakura still just rolled her eyes. And tried even harder not to laugh along with him.

* * *

On her walks to and from her destinations, Sakura's mind inevitably turned to the rogue. So much of his life was a blank to her. Which was strange because she felt like she knew him so well.

Sometimes she just forgot that he even had a life outside of the time they shared together. He certainly made her feel like his errands and obligations to Itachi weren't as important to him, and she was inclined to believe him.

But there was still so much she didn't know. His background, his likes and dislikes, his hopes for the future. His abilities.

That last thought snagged her. What exactly _was_ his power?

Sakura smiled to herself. In that way Katsuro reminded her very much of Sasuke. Young and capable, self-reliant and exceedingly cagey. But where she had some idea of Sasuke's skill, Katsuro's she did not.

Yet she knew Katsuro was powerful, and not just because he could cast a nasty genjutstu. No, there was something about him that set men twice his size on edge. She remembered the way the bastards in his group treated him two summers before. Katsuro was in charge, and they hated him for it. But they wouldn't defy him.

Maybe it wasn't power. Maybe it was fear of Katsuro's master that ruled the men.

After all, Sakura thought, biting her lip, he did seem to be in Itachi's inner circle. She dropped here eyes to the tips of her dusty shoes, moving relentlessly over the gravel road. The memories just that man's name dredged up were chilling; she pushed them away.

A scuffling sound on the road ahead brought her back to the present. The object of her happier thoughts appeared before her.

Katsuro had been waiting off the lane, leaning against a fence post. He only hopped up when he saw her approaching.

But even from a distance, Sakura she could tell something was wrong.

None of his customary pranking or disguises this time. Katsuro stood, hands slung in his pockets, shoulders slumped forward. Instead of looking at her, he kicked at the dust while he waited.

When he finally did look up, he had an apologetic look on his face.

"I can't make it this time," he said before she'd even reached him. "For your mission. I have to be too far away and... It just won't work out."

"That's ok," she smiled back, watching him as she closed the distance. He wouldn't hold her gaze, though.

"I have a few hours, but that's it," he said, falling in to step without looking at her.

Sakura glanced sideways. She didn't think it was that big a deal. Disappointing, but at least they got to see each other.

Yet his mood was absolutely blue.

Sakura knew it would be unkind to laugh, even though she wanted to.

Scuffing beside her, he was completely at odds with the gorgeous late summer day. Everything around them was brilliant and colorful.

The land rolled away on either side, patchwork crops vied for space around wooded hillocks. Brightly colored flowers jostled with twining vines and weeds in the narrow ditches along the road. But the happy cacophony of sights was lost on her companion.

Katsuro looked like he was walking under an invisible rain cloud.

But Sakura refused to share in his doldrums. "Well, I am early. So we can spend the day together."

He shrugged one shoulder.

"It will be nice to see you in the daylight again," she said, hoping for some response. But she got none.

It really was like being with Sasuke, she thought. But the novelty was quickly fading. Working through how to shake him of his low mood, Sakura looked across the valley.

Mind wandering, Sakura spied an appealing hill, not too far off the road, ringed by crops and woods. At the rounded top stood a lone old tree. It's massive crown cast nearly the whole hilltop in shade.

She had an idea. "Come on," she said.

He only had a second to frown before she pushed his shoulder into an abrupt turn and forced him off the road.

"Did you see something," he whispered as they tromped over the bristling stalks of a field left fallow.

She smiled and only offered a cryptic response. "No."

"Then where are we—"

Sakura shrugged, turning her head away to hide her growing grin.

"You'll just have to trust me," she said in a sing-song voice.

That finally drew a soft chuckle from him. There wasn't much to hide. She knew he'd be able to figure out where they were headed soon enough.

But he couldn't guess what she had planned.

'That will rattle him out of his bad mood,' she thought with glee.

Midday sun bearing down on them, they climbed the hill in silence. Both had to wipe the light sheen of sweat from their faces when they finally reached the cool shade.

Sakura turned to the tree, shedding her travel pack and kicking off her boots at the base of the trunk.

Katsuro merely stood, hands in his pockets, and looked all the way around. The breeze blew unimpeded over the spot, occasionally shivering the leaves overhead. He breathed in, trying to unwind from his disappointment.

A shift in schedule, the direct result of someone else's mistake, had Katsuro doing twice as much work. It sucked. And for the first time, he just didn't want to do it.

There was somewhere else he'd rather be.

Katsuro breathed deeply, wiping the sweaty tips of hair from his forehead before plunking his hands back to his hips. Just thinking about that shit was robbing him of more time with her.

"Sakura, I—"

He was hoping to pull his thoughts together into some kind of explanation, when he caught a flutter of movement out of the corner of his eye.

If he hadn't turned his head just then, he would have missed seeing Sakura, barefoot in the grass, knees bent, hands curled into fists and a wicked grin on her face.

And she would have walloped him.

"H-Hey!" he yelled as she launched at him.

He had only a split-second to jump out of harm's way. Sakura meant to tackle him, wrap her arms around his midsection and take him to the ground. But he dodged her, then turned to look at her with a surprised smile.

Sakura recovered beautifully, showing she wasn't really as serious about taking him down as she appeared.

"I knew that would get you!" she said, laughing.

Feet spread sturdily in the cool grass, hands on her hips, Sakura looked like the defiant girl he'd remembered from the old merchant road two summers before. Except this time there were no children hiding behind her. And her smile was all for him.

He let the warmth of it lift his spirits, wash away all the rest. A corner of his mouth tugged up.

"Care to spar?" she drawled.

Sakura cracked her knuckles, stretched her arms. Katsuro shook his head, rubbed a callused hand over the back of his neck.

"It's been a while," Sakura teased, "so I'll try to go easy on you."

How could he resist?

Not even bothering to take off his shoes, Katsuro lunged for her, grinning toothily. He wasn't sure which he wanted more: to catch her and never let go, or to see her evade him and demonstrate her skill. She made the choice for him by deftly slipping from his grasp.

And they set to beating each other up properly.

A good hour later, Sakura was beginning to feel the effects of a fighting on a summer day. The burn of exertion was in her lungs, and her limbs felt loose and warm.

But damn did she enjoy it.

Katsuro winged a fist at her. No chakra, no anything. He was just giving her an opening, seeing what she would come up with.

Sakura darted away. But his movements brought Sasuke to mind, for the third time that day. Her dark-haired teammate would have used her minute sluggishness to his advantage. He would have gone for the kill. Sasuke never gave his opponent any opening — even if it was his own teammate.

Not Katsuro.

He took his time, set up punches and gauged her reactions. Eyes following her every move, Katsuro watched her closely, looking for patterns. She could see it now. It gave her the illusion of control, but really he was waiting until just the right moment.

By this point, Sasuke would have powered through, ended the fight by sheer force.

But this was nice, enjoyable even. The wind licking up her hair, toes sinking into the long grass. She paused for a moment to catch her breath.

Katsuro stood waiting in front of her, blue sky framing him, his brown hair wild and tousled from avoiding her blows.

"Come on, don't hold back," he said with that familiar smile, the one that crinkled up the corner of his eyes.

Sakura tipped her head back and laughed in spite of herself. The wind danced warm and soft around her throat in that same familiar way she was beginning to associate with Katsuro.

Only he could make an invitation to fight sound happy, she decided. Like it was what he wanted more than anything in the world.

"All right, if you insist!" she lilted, and came at him again.

If she were at home, she thought, feinting a blow to get him into better position, Sasuke would already have his sharingan activated. Fights with him just weren't fun.

But this was taijutsu, it was supposed to be fun. Katsuro evaded her punch easily, refusing to be trapped.

His slippery techniques set her thinking. She wondered offhandedly if she could drive him to reveal any of his skill. Find out what other tricks he had up his sleeve.

Sakura went at him with renewed vigor, trying to work him to some sort of response with quick jabs to his core. Katsuro moved with her, shuffling backwards, letting her punches connect.

Sakura could tell he was subtly shifting the fight again, drawing her in, leading her on. He simply didn't reveal anything. She shifted her weight at the last moment, disrupting the pattern of her jabs to surprise him. But he surprised her instead.

Katsuro took the punishing blows, but was able to establish a pattern. That was when he knew she'd be weak, when he knew he could take her down.

She shifted her stance, an impulse decision on her part to pummel the ribs on his other side. But it didn't matter to him. He took her blows because it meant her hands and upper body were occupied. And when they were, she'd forget about her legs.

So when she swung around for his other side, he knew the fight was his.

Katsuro hooked her leg and pulled her off balance. Simultaneously he planted his palm into the hollow of her shoulder, knocking her backwards. There was nothing left to do but fall with her, letting his weight push them both over.

They were down in a disorienting instant. But for Katsuro, at least, the fall wasn't a complete surprise. He caught himself at the last second. Slanted across her body, he shot his other arm out to cushion their fall. But she still landed with an "oof."

Katsuro hoisted himself up on one arm, locking it at his elbow, and searched her face to make sure she wasn't hurt.

The force of the impact did push Sakura's breath out in an unnatural gasp, but moment later she smiled. She was ok. She looked up at him laughing in silent acknowledgment that he'd gotten her.

Katsuro slowly released the breath he'd been holding.

He knew he should move. That would be the prudent thing to do. But he just couldn't.

Laughing lightly along with her, Katsuro told himself he was making sure she was alright. But really, he couldn't tear his eyes from her.

Pink hair fanned out around her, tangling with the long grass that streamed away under her head. Still laughing, Sakura shifted her gaze from Katsuro to the sky above him. For a moment, Katsuro could see the reflection of clouds streaked across her green eyes.

Sakura looked back to his face, pinning him with her open gaze. He could not read the look he saw there. It was tender and somehow...inviting. And altogether confusing.

He could not hold it, though, and lowered his eyes to her cheeks. The pale freckles had returned. He remembered them from their trek across the desert, but he was happy to see them now, knowing that her travels were much happier—

Suddenly, the horizon went spinning. Katsuro's locked elbow gave way, and he found himself being flipped off of her. He thudded onto his back with a loud "oof."

In a blink, a laughing blur of pink hair was hovering above him, completely filling his vision.

Katsuro's breath caught. That sweet, confounding look was only a distraction. Now she pinned him, hands on his arms, her weight fully across his midsection, holding him down. Her triumphant laughter reverberated in his gut.

Sakura was still distracting him, but he'd gladly lose every time if this was how it ended. Katsuro chuckled too, in spite of himself.

At length, Sakura stood, dusted herself off, then helped him to his feet. They walked shoulder to shoulder back to the tree. And the self-satisfied smirk never left Sakura's face.

Sakura flopped into the soft grass beneath the tree, turning to take in the sweeping view. Katsuro lowered himself down beside her and breathed deeply.

The land rolled away from their feet. A broad yellow valley unfolded beneath them, rippling up with tufted green patches here and there. The fresh scent of barley and earth and summer swept up on the air to meet them. The leaves above them rustled as the breeze passed.

Katsuro turned his head slightly and caught Sakura enjoying the view as well.

He had seen lots of things, lots of places and people. Things just came and went for him, slipping away. He was so used to it, he didn't even notice. And until now, until she came into his life, he didn't care.

But this moment, sitting next to her, under the tree, he thought he'd like to hold onto this. He didn't want this to slip away.

Sunlight sifted down through the canopy. Moving his foot sent a cricket into the air, light catching it's gossamer wings as it whirred away from them indignantly. They both chuckled, watching it's path, and Sakura returned her gaze to the wide valley with another comfortable sigh. She stretched her arms out behind her, her legs out in front of her. But Katsuro kept his eyes on her.

He wished that he could tell her, show her how much these little things meant to him. Something. Anything to mark this self discovery. The difference she'd made in his life.

The easy summer breeze skittered across them again, snagging the edges of their clothes. Sakura shook her hair lightly, let the wind pick it up. A few locks were still plastered to the back of her neck.

But the rest fell easily over her shoulder, exposing that little slip of neck Katsuro had seen two summers ago during their time at the temple.

He had a sudden ridiculous desire to touch it, run his fingers down that spot, see if it was as soft as it looked. The pink tendrils at her throat wavered in the stray breeze. Sakura closed her eyes and breathed in.

Katsuro breathed in too, and held the breath, biting his lip. He wanted to move closer, touch her, make a physical connection, deepen the moment. Hold onto it a little longer.

But before he had drawn the courage to scoot closer, do something, _do anything_, she spoke.

"This is perfect," Sakura said, breathing out, shoulders relaxing.

She slid her head to the side and looked straight at him, eyes full and round and green.

"Being here," she smiled shyly, "with you. Doing all this stuff together," she said, picking up a handful of grass and letting it fall into the wind. "It's just perfect," she said, looking back out across the field.

And that settled it.

It _was_ perfect. He didn't want to spoil it. He didn't want to push her for more, just to have her ask questions he couldn't answer. But right here, this spot, this moment, the soft grass, the green leaves, her sun-speckled cheeks and the reflection of clouds in her eyes...this was perfect.

And no matter what he wanted, he wouldn't burst that bubble. He would just try to hold it for as long as he could.

If he could pin time in one place, this would be it. He didn't want to move, breathe, do anything that would disturb this fragile harmony. The angle of light was prismatic; for him, it banished the dark.

"Yeah, it is perfect." Katsuro said softly, leaning away from her. He slid his hands out behind him and propped up his knees. Then with a sigh, he watched the shadows of clouds move in slow blue blots across the field.

They sat in the grass, in silence, for a long time, each looking out at the rolling land. Neither wanting to move.

The afternoon air was warm and sweet. Crickets were beginning to whir around them. The sun moved over the valley, then slowly began its descent, filling the sky with hazy light. The edge of the tree's shadow gradually crept toward their feet.

Katsuro flopped back in the grass with a huff and shut his eyes, wishing stupidly that he could stop time.

Sakura laughed. He cracked an eye to look at her.

"I wish every day could be like this," she said in agreement.

And it did make him feel a little better. To know that she felt the same has him, in some small way. It made him feel connected to her, even though in the end, the day had slipped away like all the others.

"Me too," he sighed.

Sakura stood and stretched her back, brushed the grass off her skirt.

"So I won't see you this time," she said matter-of-factly. She didn't wait for his answer, instead turning to gather her things from the base of the tree.

Katsuro stood slowly. The bubble had burst. Though they were on the hill, side by side, their thoughts were already moving them away from one another.

"No," he said quietly. No matter what he wanted, there was simply no way to make his schedule work. The frustration was still unsettling.

But more than that, there was the growing tug inside that he was having a hard time ignoring. He wanted to go with her. When faced with the choice, he'd rather be with her than fulfilling his obligations. When had his world tipped upside-down?

"Then I'm glad we got to spend today together," she said, returning to stand next to him, smiling into his face.

Her sunny expression, free of complications, coaxed a wistful smile from him.

"Me too," he said, answering honestly. He wanted to tell her more, but he couldn't find the words. He didn't even know where to begin.

"I—" they both started at the same time. "Go ahead," he insisted. He had nothing, and even that was overshadowed by the things he knew he _could not_ tell her.

"I can't wait till next week," Sakura said with a bright smile.

He may have been worried about what to tell her, and what not to reveal, but she wiped it all away. Wherever she was, she would be looking forward to seeing him. Once again, he was at a loss to express just how warm it made him feel. Her easy acceptance was a gift.

A soft breeze ruffled the hair along her shoulders, curled up the tendrils at her throat. Sakura smiled sweetly, almost knowingly, at him.

"Yeah," he said with a lopsided smile, "I can't wait till next week either." Words were simply failing him that day.

* * *

**Author's Notes:**

Hi! Remember me?

Thanks so much to everyone for the fantastic comments! I didn't have time to pm anyone, so please know that I read every single comment. Thank you from the bottom of my socks. It was a monumental effort to get this chapter done! But it's done, and I really hope you enjoy it. This chapter and the next have been my favorites to write so far. And look for Part 2 in the next few weeks! Yay!

And thank you so much for the comments and faves on the NS one shot, Other Dreams, as well. Right now, I don't plan on adding any more to it. But maybe I'll do some more little things in the future along the same lines as that one. I know I left them going on a date, but I like the unexpected romance better. I don't think a date would be as interesting as them hanging off a cliff! lol

The same applies to this story. I am trying to focus in on what relates to them, what is interesting, and what tells a story that maybe hasn't been told. So I'm not writing a lot of Sakura hospital scenes or overly violent Naru/Saku sparring scenes. And when I do have to touch on canon or character development, I'll try to keep them in character but bring out maybe a little-used element. Like the Gaara sand scene, writing it from Sakura's pov instead of as being the vehicle of change for someone else. But I will always try to get either romance or violence in each chapter. Sometimes both! Next chapter continues in the same vein, then there will be more revealed about events that are going on around Katsuro and Sakura's perfect bubble. Including Katsuro's backstory. So, hope you enjoy! Please read and review! And as always, visit the website for more indepth notes.

**Chapter Notes:**

• _If she were a half-an-hour later, she would have missed the unusual peacefulness of the just-waking village._ — Next two chapters are called "Perfect" because at everything is in harmony. There are certain moments that are only at the right time. Like morning dew. Katsuro's habit of catching her at the right time for a prank. The prismatic light of a stolen afternoon. It's not meant to be sad. Just the official stamp that yes, this is the good stuff. More on this in the spoiler notes.

• _Tsunade: "As a Konoha kunoichi, the only ones you can ever trust are your fellow Leaf nins."_ — Inside joke, as Katsuro will grow to become a Leaf nin. So she's not technically disobeying Tsunade.

• _The cool evening air scattered the papery leaves again, ruffling the edge of her hair. But the breeze that stirred around her throat was a little warmer, more tangible. Somehow, it reminded her of him._ — Sakura has some sense of Katsuro's wind element nature.

• _A soft breeze ruffled the hair along her shoulders, curled up the tendrils at her throat. Sakura smiled sweetly, almost knowingly, at him. _— By the end, under the tree, Sakura has identified that the little wind thing comes from him. More on this next chapter.

• _"Tsunade-sama fought against Hanzo... The leader of the Rain Village." Momentarily confused, Katsuro's hand froze above a thin branch. "You know, way back in the Second Shinobi War...?" Oh. Way back..._

— Foreshadowing some of Katsuro's other dealings. His backstory and his dealings will be dealt with in detail from Chapter 23 on. More in the spoiler notes.

• _But there was still so much she didn't know. His background, his likes and dislikes, his hopes for the future. His abilities._ — Based on the questions Kakashi asked them early on in their Team 7 days.

• _If he could pin time in one place, this would be it. He didn't want to move, breathe, do anything that would disturb this fragile harmony. The angle of light was prismatic; for him, it banished the dark._ — Chapter starts with Sakura thinking about the unique moment in time under a dew-bedecked tree, and the chapter ends under a tree where Katsuro is thinking about how this moment pushes all the dark stuff out of his life for a while. Little full-circle of themes.


	22. Perfect, Part 2

Chapter 22 - Perfect, Part 2

Sakura paused outside the hospital doors for a moment, letting her eyes adjust to the deepening gloam. Across the broad avenue, the road to her home stretched out in front of her, soft and grey in the dusky light.

She allowed herself one long, good look: It would be several more hours till she'd see it again. Even though she'd just finished her shift, there was still so much work to be done.

With a sigh Sakura shook off her treacherous thoughts, slung her small work rucksack over her shoulder and trotted down the steps. Reaching the avenue, she ground her heel in a hard turn and jogged out of the stale yellow street light into darkness.

Sakura padded mechanically down the narrow streets of Konoha, past darkened storefronts and faintly glowing residences. Only the lingering smell of cooked meals interrupted her thoughts. And that was just because it made her stomach growl.

But she was late enough as it was. Eating would have to come later. Right now, her two teammates were waiting for her. And one of them was probably pissed off.

She swiped the bangs off her forehead with the back of her hand, then turned another corner. Even though her workload had doubled, it didn't excuse her from any of her other duties. So when she was in Konoha, there were always medic hours to catch up on, as well as the meagre roster of Team 7 assignments.

Her buoyant mood carried her through most of the tedious work, but it did not escape the notice of her two teammates. Sai's anbu training was too engrained to allow him much more than a raised eyebrow at some silly outburst on Sakura's part. But Sasuke? He barely tolerated her near-permanent good mood these days, always frowning thunderously whenever he saw her. And he _never_ spoke to her.

But somehow, that only made Sakura feel even lighter. She shrugged off his dark looks. Her experiences, and the resulting self confidence, had become an armor against his scowls and silence.

Still, she hated for them to wait on her.

Sakura rounded another corner, past another good-smelling lane. Stars were already pricking through the inky sky. They were supposed to meet at sunset to unload the shopkeeper's substantial goods, but that was at least an hour ago.

Sakura had asked them to juggle a nuisance assignment to a better time to accommodate her schedule. Neither spoke against it, so she took it as an agreement. But now _she_ was the one running late…. She quickened her pace.

Trotting down the last row of storefronts, Sakura mulled what she might find: Either they were there, doing the job without her, in which case she could expect a night of angry silence. Or Sai had been called off on anbu duty, leaving only Sasuke to do the job.

Fat chance, she thought with a snort. If Sai was gone, then only thing she could expect was a long night of solitary work.

Sakura slowed to a walk, listening hard as she approached the alley behind the shops. It was too quiet. A bad sign. She squared her shoulders and prepared for the worst — a mad shop keeper and a night full of work.

But when she rounded the building, Sakura was completely surprised to find the two dark-haired nins already at work.

In the dim light of a single faded red lantern, Sai and Sasuke were silently hoisting crates in tandem off an oversized cart, then stacking them beside the door. Both her teammates glanced up at Sakura's approach but neither offered her a greeting.

Sakura sighed quietly. At least it was better than working alone.

Shrugging off her rucksack mid-stride, Sakura pitched it to the side and set to work hauling down the crates from the cart. And, without a word, the workflow changed.

Sai began lugging the crates inside, while Sakura and Sasuke unloaded the cart.

It was ironic how well they could function as a team, without actually being one, Sakura thought as she slid off a crate.

Much to their sensei's chagrin, the begrudging teamwork that carried them through the chunin exams did not last. Teamwork was so important to Kakashi, and in that they seemed doomed to disappoint him. But Kakashi's feelings were the only thing that gave her a moment's pause anymore.

Sakura had sparred on occasion with Sai, tried build some kind of bond. But once her slate became too full, she didn't have time to ask him again. He, conspicuously, never said a word about it.

Sasuke...well, nothing had ever changed with him. He only put forth a little more effort than usual to get through the exam. Once it was over, it was clear he still thought they were beneath him. Sakura more so than Sai, but she didn't care. She had grown immune to his opinions, the spoken and unspoken ones.

He had just been using them to get through it. But if she were honest with herself, she supposed they were all using each other to reach the same goal. Did that count as teamwork? She found the thought highly amusing. Maybe it did for their team.

Chuckling softly to herself, Sakura leaned in to get the next crate. But the flash of another hand in the same space startled her back to reality.

Sakura had reached for the same box as Sasuke. He shot her an irritated look; Sakura's small smile vanished.

She immediately withdrew and reached for another one, hoping to avoid an angry confrontation, on either of their parts. But for Sasuke, her preoccupation was an opening to vent his anger on another subject altogether.

"Surprised you have any time for this," he sniped, sliding the box to the edge of the cart. "Tsunade seems to favor you above all others."

"My shift just ran long tonight," she said, heaving up a crate. She frowned suddenly, as the intent of his words sunk in. "And Tsunade doesn't 'favor me.' My solo missions are no different than Sai's anbu ones."

Sasuke only laughed coldly. Crate propped against his chest, he swung around toward the store, took a few steps, then stopped.

"Yeah," he said over his shoulder, "but Sai's doing real work, not ass-kissing the officials."

The words stung like a slap. Sakura just stood, watching him go. The box was balanced on her hip, and anger alone numbed the hard edge digging into her side. It took every ounce of self-control not to throw it at him.

And it must have shown too, because Sasuke set the crate down with a smug look, as if daring her to do it.

It was the first time that Sasuke had made any reference to her being in the room at the clan meeting. At the time, she'd wondered if he'd even noticed her. Apparently he did.

He walked back, the trace of a smirk on his lips. No, he had just been waiting for the right to time to throw it back at her.

But Sakura had nothing to be ashamed of. Tsunade figured out a way for her to be there and learn the truth about why Team 7 was held back.

"You know," she said, shifting her hold on the crate, "you'd get a lot farther if you'd just do the damn assignments. You don't have to like it."

Sasuke's eyes narrowed. "What do you know? These assignments are a waste of my—"

"This is a waste of my time too, and Sai's, for that matter" Sakura fired back. "And yeah, just so you know, I _don't_ think you should be doing this. I think it's unfair, and I think you're skills are wasted."

It was an honest opinion, even though she disliked him thoroughly. Sakura was beginning to have some inkling that this might've been why Tsunade worked her into that meeting, to help her understand their troubled teammate.

But any feelings of understanding she might have had were scorched away.

Sasuke folded his arms, leveled a bored look at her, and then, impossibly, rolled his eyes.

Molten rage seared through her. Her words had been thrown away, dismissed as nothing more than empty flattery. _He still saw her as beneath him!_

Without thinking she tightened her grip on the crate, compressing the wood under her fingertips. Though the feeling of splintering wood was distantly satisfying, she shoved the box back on the cart to keep from destroying it. Or hurling it at him.

His arrogance was infuriating. Sakura resisted the wild urge to smack that look off his face. Instead, she struck at him in a way she knew would really hurt.

"I also think it's unfair," she said, stepping toward him, fists ground tight, "that I was targeted by your idiot brother just because I was on your team. And it's unfair that I have to do this grunt work because you won't work hard enough to get yourself some decent assignments!"

Sasuke sputtered furiously, his facade shattered, but she wasn't finished.

"I busted my ass to finish those jobs you left me with," she said, thudding her chest with a finger. "I signed your name so our team wouldn't take a hit."

Sakura moved another step closer and pointed sharply up the alley, in the direction of the Hokage's tower.

_"And Tsunade knew the whole time."_

Sasuke closed his mouth. He had enough grace to look at least a little ashamed of himself.

Sakura straightened and took a steadying breath. "If you don't like the way things are now, you have only yourself to blame. Finish the job, be nice to the people — it's not their fault either. Then she can give you better assignments."

Sasuke's eyes went wide, his face twisted in rage.

"You insinuate yourself into one meeting," he said, stepping towards her, "and think you've got it all figured out? It's not that simple—"

"I know it's not!" she said, mirroring his actions. "But it's a start."

Tension froze the air between them. Sasuke was pale with fury. Sakura would not relent.

Suddenly Sasuke slammed his hand down on the flat bed of the cart beside them. Then, with a wrathful noise, he turned and stormed away down the dark alley.

At that moment, he hated her. But more than that, he hated that she might be right.

Sai came around the corner, saw Sasuke's figure fading into the darkness, then looked back at Sakura with a tight frown. His expression might pass for mild irritation in other people. But he said nothing.

Sakura sighed. The pile of stuff they still had to move was huge. She hefted up the same box again.

"I should have just kept my mouth shut," she said in the way of an apology for now extending their workload into the night. She knew both of them were starting out on assignments in the morning.

"Or you could just kill each other, and save me the trouble," he said dryly, pulling of another crate.

Sakura nodded dispiritedly. She deserved that, she thought. There was no love lost on her team, that's for sure.

Darkness closed in around them, but they worked on without stopping. One by one, the lamps down the alleyway were snuffed out, until only theirs was left. The merchant sometimes came to the door, checking their progress, but most of the time Sakura and Sai were left alone. Under the tired red lamplight, they plodded back and forth from the cart to the door in silence.

So it was a complete surprise when the crunch of footsteps echoed back up the long alley.

Without a word, Sasuke materialized out of the darkness.

He didn't look at either of them, just set in to moving boxes. Sai automatically returned to the door, slipping into their stilted teamwork, but not before flashing Sakura a mild look of warning. She ignored him. Sakura didn't need to be reminded: She said she should of kept her mouth shut, and she meant it. This time she would.

As before, the workflow silently changed. And before any of them realized, they were finished.

Sakura wearily pulled out the scroll for them to sign. They didn't need a report for this one, just the proof that it was finished, what time and who was there.

All three jotted their names at the bottom, but when Sakura went to stash it into her hip pouch again, Sasuke held out his hand.

"I'll take it," he said firmly. "Go home."

His voice was cold and authoritative. But Sakura understood: This was his way of an apology.

Sai nodded and left immediately.

Sakura reminded herself to keep her mouth shut. So she nodded, handed him the scroll and headed off in the opposite direction. She didn't know what to make of it, but maybe something she'd said got through.

It didn't matter though, she thought with a yawn. She'd catch a few hours sleep tonight, then in the morning she'd be off again for another few weeks. Sakura smiled to herself at the thought of spending time with the one person who truly was a teammate, Katsuro.

* * *

The steady cadence of her footsteps was like a heartbeat. He knew it so well. Gaze fixed on the field they were passing, it occurred to him that he didn't even have to look at her anymore to know how she felt just from that sound. Can footsteps sound happy? He'd never thought about it, but hers did. They made him happy, anyway.

Her footfalls began to slow. He knew what it was even before he'd swung his vision back around to the road. Ahead of them, another road branched from the trade road. She was anticipating him, expecting him to break off and leave.

But, just like every other time, he had already worked out how much farther he could go with her. At each junction, Sakura slowed, giving him a little time to decide.

When they first started meeting up, Katsuro would say farewell, never coming much farther than was necessary. A self-imposed limit, he told himself. But each time, he moved that limit back. He always wanted just a little more time with her.

At some point, he didn't know when, the missions had become the secondary objective. Meeting her was the first. It was the only thing he looked forward to.

Katsuro resumed the pace. He knew he'd go with her as far as he could. And when he reached that end, he'd probably work out a way to go farther.

Katsuro glanced aside at her, but she never looked at him. Just kept looking ahead. She pulled a hand up to curl the sun-warmed hair out of her face, trying to conceal her smile, but he caught it. He laughed softly, then looked back out to the side. And her footsteps resumed their easy, happy rhythm.

But the last turn off did give him pause, even if he didn't let it show. He knew that was his last one. After that, there were no more easy escapes.

They were edging ever closer to the Fire Country border.

He had come down this far with her before. A few times actually. Past this point, he would henge as a young farm hand, sticking to the edge of the trail and hopping off at the slightest sound of someone approaching. It worked, but it was hard. The farther he went with her, the more jumpy he became.

They never once passed anyone Sakura knew, but it didn't ease the panicky feeling that came on as they got closer to his former country. He hadn't been there in years, but he supposed some things never got easier.

Usually Sakura could sense his uneasiness, too. Before long, he'd catch her concerned glances. He'd laugh it off, but would always leave soon after. If his anxiety was clear enough to see, he reasoned, then it was past time for him to be going.

Katsuro kicked at a fat round stone. It thudded down the road, puncturing the pleasant rhythm of their matched footfalls. There must be a way around it.

For the first time, he was weary of the facade. There was no one around that was a threat, and he was tired of feeling like he needed to hide. He wanted to stay out in the sunlight with her.

Looking like a younger farmer, he never felt truly safe. The floppy clothes and tattered hat, it felt too much like a disguise even though he knew it was authentic. He decided it was his face. It was too close to the real thing.

He hit upon an old solution: The old farmer henge he'd used when he first came upon her in the barley field. The only drawback was that he had to act like an old man, bent back, shuffling steps and all.

Katsuro didn't tell her what he planned. He just hopped off the path for a moment, and when he came back on his youthful features were hidden behind the sags and wrinkles.

Sakura took one look at him and slapped a hand over her mouth, holding in a raucous laugh.

After some mild ribbing about adopting the disguise he'd teased her so mercilessly about, Sakura looked him up and down, nodding seriously.

"This is definitely safer," she said. Sakura turned and began walking, expecting him to fall in beside her. But Katsuro slowed with a realization. Her earnestness undid him.

He had prepared an excuse to cover his insistence on a disguise. A lie. But she accepted him without an explanation. He felt the fullness of it, even if she only understood part of the reasons.

She saw him as something worth keeping safe. Not for any other reason than that she cared about him. Not what was in him.

"You coming, old man?" she said, turning back to him, laughter in her eyes.

"Yeah!" Katsuro burst into a wide smile and ran down the road with a spryness that was completely at odds with his wrinkled appearance.

They walked on in pleasant silence. But Katsuro wasn't the only one concerned about his safety.

Sakura squinted at the narrow lane. Just a gated cart path that jutted off the main road. It was almost beyond notice.

She had made it a point to learn all the connecting lanes off her intended route, under the guise of looking for shortcuts. But really, Sakura was looking for the road less traveled.

Sunk down in the high summer grass was a weathered stone marker. She didn't even have to read it. That's the one, she thought. She turned suddenly off the flat road headed down the rutted lane toward the old gate.

But Sakura only heard her own footsteps on the gravel. She turned back expectantly.

Katsuro stood in the middle of the wide road, hands open at his sides, hair disheveled, really looking like a confused old man.

Sakura snickered. "This way," she said gently.

Though he walked toward her obediently, there was a note of skepticism in his voice. "Why _this way_?"

"Because this gets me to where I need to be," she said, stopping to climb over the closed gate. She hopped down to the path and turned back to him.

"And it's safer for you this way. Less people."

Again, her easy words struck him. He was beginning to think he'd probably follow her anywhere. He began climbing then paused, studying her face. He wanted to hold onto this moment. But in his distraction, his foot slipped off the fence. He skidded back down a few boards before he caught himself.

Sakura just laughed him. "You look like you need some help."

He laughed at himself, too. He must really look like a decrepit old-timer, clinging to the gate for dear life.

Toeing a wooden slat firmly, Katsuro leapt over the gate in one bound, landing in a crouch beside her. He straightened, grinning mischievously, creasing up every one of those ridiculous wrinkles.

"I can't put my finger on it," Sakura tapped her chin in mock puzzlement, "but this henge doesn't quite suit you."

He laughed loudly and fell into step with her.

They walked side-by-side into the secluded valley. Bordered by jutting hills, the bottomlands were filled with large rice fields that ran nearly unimpeded across the valley floor. Only the thick woodlands at the edge encroached on the crops. And here and there a low brown farm house would appear, seemingly floating above the green-gold sea.

It was fertile and beautiful. Even the air smelled ripe, earthy and sweet. Sakura and Katsuro walked in companionable silence, taking in the idyllic scene.

They had not seen a soul, though there were farms all around them. So both were startled when they rounded a corner to see a sturdy old man coming up out of gate. He rattled the fence, hooked the lead of a goat to the post, then unloaded some tools into a cart blocking the lane. The man looked up, squinting down the road at the approaching strangers.

Sakura bit her lip. A flaw in her plan had just revealed itself. No longer on a merchant road, it dawned on her that everyone on this lane would know each other. A ninja and a foreign farmer would definitely garner attention. Sakura watched the man warily.

When he ducked his head to latch the gate, she said under her breath, "We're quite an odd pair. Maybe we should—"

But Katsuro was gone. Vanished.

Dumbfounded, Sakura blinked into the empty space beside her. There was no sound, nor shift of air. She didn't even detect the subtle drop in the chakra around her.

She shook her head lightly. Sometimes his stealthiness startled her. Like Sasuke, he concealed his prowess. These little things made her wonder how much she really knew about him.

But she didn't have time to think about that now.

"Oi! You lost?" the farmer called up to her.

Well, at least he had not seen Katsuro, she thought. But she bit back a sad sigh. This was the end of their walk this time.

"No sir," she called back politely, closing the distance between them. "I am a kunoichi from Konoha, on my way home."

"You're taking the long way then," he muttered. Hauling up his cart, he hooked the goat's lead onto the handle, and started off down the road. Sakura fell in beside him.

"It's a lovely valley," she said. He only grunted in acknowledgment.

Though he was older, this man was nothing like the farmer that Katsuro portrayed. This man was sturdy and stout. The lines in his skin were tightly tanned. And though his hair showed more white than dark, he looked like he could throttle anyone who crossed him.

Sakura hid her smile. Katsuro, in his old-man guise, looked like he could barely make it over that fence. This old man looked like he could build ten of them.

"Got no help," the man barked suddenly as if they'd been having a conversation. Sakura jumped. "All the boys around here have gone off to play ninja."

He gave her a long, squinty look like she was somehow responsible for it.

Sakura put her hands up. "Not to my village. Konoha doesn't 'take' anyone from other nations. The academy only accepts Fire Country citizens, same as the other hidden villages."

Her explanation sounded hollow, even to her own ears. And she could tell it didn't change his opinion one bit.

He stopped his cart, pushed open another gate, rolled the cart through, waited till Sakura passed, then swung it closed behind her, all the while grumbling under his breath.

He was obviously just looking for someone to blame for whatever ailed him, Sakura thought.

"And here comes another one," the farmer fumed loudly, throwing his hands up. Sakura followed his sightline. He was right.

Another Konoha nin _was_ coming up the lane.

Another Konoha nin _who just happened to be _her partner.

Sakura's mouth dropped open.

She didn't hear the farmer's grumbles or the sound of the cart rolling away. She was only aware of the familiar, brooding black-haired nin who was, at that moment, filling up her vision.

Which couldn't be helped: He was bounding up the lane, grinning from ear to ear, and heading straight for her.

"Oh no," she gasped, horrified. "No, no, no, no..."

This ridiculously happy Sasuke stopped in front of her and threw out his arms.

"Whaddya think?" He spun around. "Better?"

"Ka-Katsuro," she sputtered. "You can't...you just can't..."

She followed him with her eyes as he cleared the gate in a single chakra-tinged jump. Katsuro landed with a solid thud — so unlike Sasuke — then sprung up smiling into her face.

Words failed her. He threw his head back and laughed. Sakura had never seen Sasuke smile, much less stand in front of her boisterous and jubilant. Looking nearly like a fool.

"Oh..." she breathed, "this is so wrong..."

"No, this is right!" He snatched up her hand, shaking her whole arm to break her stupor. "I can stay with you, and no one will think anything of it. I can use chakra, I can be me. And you are just traveling with another Konoha nin."

Sakura was far from convinced. Horrified, her eyes kept moving over this false Sasuke, from his happy face to his flailing hands.

Katsuro caught her look and splayed his hands out in front of him.

"I know. It sucks I have to look like _him_ of all people," he muttered, inspecting his hands, then his arms, then his clothes. "But he's the only other Konoha nin I've ever seen."

Satisfied with his appearance he shrugged, then plunked his hands down on his hips. "But I get to be with you, right?" he said with a grin.

The pale cheeks were rosy and stretched wide to accommodate the huge smile. The black eyes, which Sakura had only ever seen with a look of malice, or boredom, now glittered with happiness. Katsuro had gotten everything right, except that he looked like Sasuke only if he were delirious with fever.

"Come on," he shook her arm hard, rocking her body. "Let's try it out!"

He took off down the lane after the farmer, obviously wanting to speak to him.

"Ka—" she cried urgently, but stopped with a gulp. "Sasuke," she called after him weakly. "Wait! This isn't a good idea..."

By the time she reached him, he was talking animatedly to the farmer.

"And she's a medic," he said, thumbing back at Sakura. "Trained by the Hokage herself!"

They both looked at her. Sakura looked desperately at the strange, happy Sasuke.

"A medic, huh?"

Sakura only responded with a pained smile to the farmer.

"Best in the whole village!" Katsuro gushed, stepping beside her and rocking her shoulder with his hand.

She glanced sideways at him. The goofy grin, the positive attitude. Sasuke would just die if he knew someone happy was impersonating him. Sakura smiled in spite of herself, stifling the urge to laugh.

Katsuro laughed knowingly, eyes dancing with delight. Sakura couldn't help it — a giggle slipped out. This was surely his biggest prank yet. She pressed her fingers to her lips to keep from laughing even more.

But the farmer scratched the grey stubble at his chin, seriously considering the kunoichi.

"I have need of a medic," he said slowly. "Maybe we could work something out. Could you spare time for a warm meal?"

"Of course!" Katsuro crowed.

Sakura nodded soberly. This overruled her objections to Katsuro's disguise. If they needed a medic, then she'd just have to play along.

Sakura cut her eyes at their surroundings. They were probably safe out here. An old farmer, far off the beaten path, would never figure out Katsuro's little trick.

She'd just have to make sure this was a one-time prank.

Following the man down the narrow footpath to his home, Katsuro grinned at her, rubbing his belly greedily. Sakura rolled her eyes, then smiled too.

The path ran atop a berm of land between the crops. It gave Sakura the feeling she was standing in the middle of a river of reeds. To either side she could see darker stripes of green criss-crossing the fields, signaling other paths edging other sunken crops. But ahead of them, ahead of the man, was an island of raised land with a large brown house and several outbuildings.

They passed through another paling at the edge of farm compound, and Sakura was just fastening the rustic latch when a child's voice called from the house.

"Grandfather!" a little girl called, dashing towards them.

Sakura thought for a moment she was the one in need of care. But the child was happy and healthy looking, with all the boundless energy of a four or five year old. Or Katsuro, she quipped to herself.

Seeing the newcomers, she immediately ducked behind her grandfather's leg.

Sakura and Katsuro stopped automatically, not wanting to scare the girl.

Clutching his pant leg, the little girl peered around to observe the nins. Her soft, feathery black hair offset the brightness of her eyes. Sakura tipped her head; the girl certainly was cute.

And when she unwrapped her fingers from the edge of the pants to point at Sakura, the kunoichi thought she would probably be the recipient of a sweet little wave. Her pink hair was always fascinating to children.

But she held up a single finger. Sakura frowned lightly.

The child shifted the finger to point at the disguised Katsuro beside her.

With nightmarish clarity, she held up two fingers.

One for Sakura, two for Katsuro. Both nins were horrified.

Sakura's breath caught in her throat. Had she detected the henge, somehow?

Katsuro was paralyzed with fear. _Had she detected his second chakra, somehow?_

Realizing what she was doing, the grandfather quickly closed his hand around hers, curling her two fingers out of sight. He sent her back to the house, saying softly, but firmly, "Go back inside. Stay with grandma."

Sakura thought the movement had a little too much urgency than just a simple grandfatherly gesture.

The little girl thought nothing was amiss though and smiled broadly at the nins before trotting back up the road. All the way she chanted in a sweet sing-song voice, "One, two. One, two."

The farmer glanced back over his shoulder but never met their eyes. "Don't pay any attention to her. She likes to count," he said roughly.

Sakura only nodded. Beside her, Katsuro was reviving enough to continue walking.

They fell in behind the old man, but one shared glance,and they both were in agreement. Something was not right about this situation.

They reached the large low house to find the little girl with the grandmother at a family table. Screens and shutters were open wide, letting the wind move through, and all around were gorgeous sweeping views of the crops.

"One, two," the little girl chanted sweetly to the grandmother.

The old woman shushed the girl and sent her on an errand. Away from us, Sakura thought, watching the little girl skip from the room.

Suddenly, utensils and vegetables clattered to the floor. The woman clutched her hands to her gut, and Sakura thought for a moment she'd cut herself with a knife.

She was already rounding the table when she caught a glimpse of the real ailment. The woman's hands were badly gnarled, either from a lifetime of farming or some chronic ailment. They looked more like the knotted roots of an old tree than the flexible fingers of a human.

Sakura said nothing but squatted down in front of her, her pale hands already engulfed in green. She put them out, palms up, and asked gently, "May I see? I might be able to help."

The woman nodded, smiling at the realization that the young girl was a medic, and pushed past the pain to lay her wretchedly disfigured hands into Sakura's glowing ones.

She went to work immediately, face completely focused on her task, searching out the invisible source of the problem.

Katsuro had followed Sakura into the room and had seen their interaction. But he was still frozen just inside the doorway. Katsuro was captivated. Hands hanging limply at his sides, he watched Sakura work. She may as well have been healing him, because he wasn't going anywhere either. He wanted to see exactly how she—

Small fingers suddenly pushed into Katsuro's open hand. Only his sharp reflexes saved him from jumping through the ceiling. The little girl just smiled up at him, blissfully unaware of the absolute shock she'd just given him.

"Two," she questioned quietly, looking at him innocently, still holding onto his slackened fingers. Almost as if she were calling his name.

He wasn't sure what to do. But she was a child. There was no way she could know... Best to play along, he thought. Maybe she just likes to count, he told himself, thought he didn't really believe it.

He nodded slowly. She was satisfied and turned her attention back to Sakura and the grandmother. He blinked once then, accepting her little offering of trust, he curled his fingers around hers, and turned back to watch as well.

And this was how the grandfather found them several minutes later when he brought in clutch of food from storehouse.

"I brought in the..." but his voice thinned at the scene.

The grandmother looked up with a watery smile, thin tear tracks down her leathery skin. Katsuro and the little girl both looked back, big matching grins.

"I..."

But Katsuro filled in the words he couldn't find. "I told you she's the best."

The farmer gulped suddenly and swiped at the corners of his eyes.

"Well, let's not stand around," the man pronounced thickly, obviously needing some activity. "Let's get lunch ready."

The little girl was delighted and pulled Katsuro off to help. Good-naturedly, he let himself be led away.

Sakura smiled up at him quickly before he was pulled out of the room.

"He must be special," the grandmother said quietly. "She doesn't take to many people. She has a sense about those things."

"Mh-hmm," Sakura responded, head still bowed over her hands. But Sakura remembered the girl's strange actions outside.

"Well, she seems pretty special too." Sakura knew she was fishing for information, but she still hoped it wasn't too apparent.

"Yes. Yes, she is," was the grandmother's slow, cryptic response.

Lunch precluded any more conversation on the topic. Sakura wrapped up her healing session and took her seat at the low family table beside Katsuro. The little girl bustled in with a tiny dish of her own, and without another thought, wedged herself into the space between the two nins. Both laughed and made room for the little girl.

But Sakura didn't miss the look of surprise on the grandparents' faces. In an instant it was gone however, and the grandfather leaned back, away from the table, and cast a long, calculating look at Sakura.

"Now what would bring two Konoha nins out this way?" He let the thought hang in the air. "You have no business outside your borders. So whatever you're doing in these lands, it can't be good."

The wife offered everyone more food in an attempt to smooth over her husband's rudeness.

But Katsuro's anger was already ignited. He scowled at the man, outraged that he would ask Sakura to treat his wife, only to grill her about her country's concerns over lunch.

Not much of a fair trade, he thought, splaying a hand on the tabletop.

Sakura caught Katsuro's dark look and could guess his thoughts. But she was completely unfazed by the man's gruff attitude. She set her chopsticks down, and lifted just the tips of her fingers in silent signal to Katsuro that everything was ok.

"My missions are diplomatic in nature, I—"

The old man cut her off with a loud scoff, as if he'd caught her in a lie.

Katsuro couldn't take it. "She goes to small towns and catches their thieves," he snapped. "And heals their wounded."

"Among other things, yes. But I also—" she said, eyeing Katsuro.

"She had to come out here and do the things your country won't do," Katsuro barged on.

Across from him, the farmer was spooling up. "Only because your country has made everything so difficult for us, waging wars, stealing away our young men with offers of—"

"No, it's not like that at all—" Sakura tried to regain control.

"Well who would want to—" Katsuro spoke over them both.

Only the shriek of the little girl stopped their battling voices. "It hurts," she wailed, hands to either side of her head.

Both Sakura and Katsuro leaned back in surprise, afraid they'd somehow hurt the child. The grandmother responded instantly, cooing and shushing until she calmed down.

"You know better, you old goat," the wife said, looking archly at the husband. The old man knew enough to look contrite. "Come here, sweetheart," she offered to the little girl, but she was already wiping her tears in Katsuro's shirtsleeve. He cast an unsteady glance at the girl, but let her continue.

"I am from— _We_ are from the Fire Country. And I have no part in any of the past events. I am sent out on diplomatic missions to help small towns deal with any number of problems they are facing. And that's it," she said firmly.

"What I do on my missions is exactly what you've seen here today. More or less. _He_," she shot Katsuro a stern look, "came out to meet me on my return."

Katsuro gave her a wobbly smile. But she didn't have to warn him, he had silently vowed to keep his mouth shut this time.

Sakura engaged the man in a discussion of the valley, the area, the events that had shaped it and the current situation it was in.

"It is truly lovely here," she said, waving a hand to one of the open screen doors and the glorious views outside.

Before Katsuro's eyes, Sakura coaxed the man into talking about his farm, his land and the things that interested them. They finished their meal in peace, with Sakura and the old farmer carrying on the bulk of the conversation. The man was still no basket of roses, but Sakura wasn't offended.

Katsuro had to admit, he was impressed. In his world, force was the rule, not negotiation. And Sakura wasn't disrespecting the old man, just holding a carefully controlled conversation. She turned a grumbling complaint back on him with an interested question, and she never let him delve too deeply into a some unhappy topic.

He was just thinking that she would wield a wicked genjutsu, when, to his dismay, the little girl pushed Katsuro's arm away from the table and climbed up into his lap.

Sakura had to hold back a laugh: Katsuro looked like someone had just placed a venomous snake in his lap.

"You're warm," the child said, pulling her legs up and snuggling comfortably against his chest. He brought his arms back down reflexively, to keep her from toppling off his lap, but he still had a strangled look of discomfort.

She closed her eyes and made herself quite comfortable. Everyone else silently watched as the little girl nodded off. But Katsuro was beginning to get alarmed that she hadn't moved. At all.

"Is she ok? Is something wrong?" he said, voice strained. "She's not moving," he said in a loud whisper to Sakura.

Sakura looked to the grandmother. "Is this her nap time?"

The grandmother nodded, smiling.

"Oh," Katsuro said, blowing out a relieved breath.

The grandfather sat back, folded his arm, and fixed a piercing look at Katsuro.

"You must be pretty special," he challenged. "She doesn't take to anybody."

Both nins exchanged a panicked glance, but Sakura smoothed it over with a laugh.

"She's the one who seems to be special," she said, hoping the couple would put forth some information. Sakura was certain the child was indeed special — that last outburst had clenched it.

She glanced back to catch the couple sharing their own panicky look. Hmmm, Sakura thought, maybe she could help them along.

"She seems very attuned to what's going on around her. A rare talent, indeed." The couple still said nothing, which was telling enough. Sakura leaned forward, took one last swig of her tea. "And believe me, as a medic, I've seen it all. In my country and most of the others."

Katsuro had to stop himself from laughing. The dramatic pause for tea, her assurance that she'd 'seen it all.' That swaggering was nothing like her. But the clearing throats and nervous shuffling of hands told him that her efforts had worked. Maybe this was even where her patient conversation was heading toward as well.

"She _is_ different," the grandfather said, the rough edge gone from his voice. "She can sense things that others can't." He cleared his throat, looked at his hands. "Like when people are coming and going, things like that."

"And people's emotions?" Sakura said. The grandfather shrugged one shoulder noncommittally. But Sakura persisted. "Strong emotions, like just a little while ago?" The man nodded firmly then.

It occurred to Sakura that they both were looking quite nervous. The grandfather hadn't raised his eyes. The grandmother's kind face was grim. The medic in her recognized that scared look: They thought something was wrong with the child.

"Well, I think she's amazing," she said firmly. "A delight and a treasure. She's a healthy, beautiful girl who has been blessed with a _great gift_."

The grandfather said nothing, but heaved his shoulders, obviously relieved.

"Well, we've always thought so," the grandmother said softly, her small smile slowly returning.

"Only time will tell what she becomes, what her talents turn out to be, but she is happy and safe here."

"Talents?" the grandfather frowned, crossing his arms. "And just what kind of 'gift' would she have?"

"We have a clan in our village who are able to detect emotional changes, chakra imprints..." The grandfather was still frowning. Sakura simplified it. "They can sense things. All sorts of things." The man gave a single nod.

"But if she can tell when someone's coming, without having prior knowledge, then I suspect she might also be able to sense full-formed chakras too," Sakura said.

"Can you test her, find out?" the man said, waving in the direction of her hands.

Sakura chuckled gently. "No, there are no medical tests for that. It is a talent. And, like all talents, it will take time to see what she is fully capable of. But if she has that level of control, at such a young age, then her natural ability is very strong. It's quite a rare gift she has."

The grandfather nodded slowly. "And what was that about keeping her safe?"

"Some think that children exhibiting an extraordinary skill should be brought up in an environment conducive to training that skill to better serve..." Sakura's voice died out. Her diplomatic language fell on deaf ears.

"Like in one of the hidden villages," Katsuro said, an unmistakeable edge to his voice.

"No, not like _our_ village," Sakura reminded. "No shinobi is ever forced to do or use their skill if they don't want to. The Hokage very much believes that the best ninjas are the ones who serve because they want to, because they love their cause. Not because they're forced to."

"I don't want to scare you," she turned back to the grandparents. "She is safe here. And happy. And that is the best thing for her. What she does with her talents is completely up to her. You just have to guard her against those who would use her as a weapon."

Sakura continued speaking, but Katsuro didn't want to hear any more. Instead he looked down at the feathery hair flopped against his chest. This was a little warm life curled up in his lap. Completely innocent. He shifted his arm, and she sent out shuddering, contented sigh.

Sakura was wrong. Apparently, he still knew more about her own village than she did. Itachi had never been reserved about the dark side of Konoha. He knew there was a shadow group that sought out talented children to raise as weapons. Wasn't he was living proof of that?

Katsuro tightened his arms around the child fractionally. The thought of her innocent life subverted for someone else chilled him. Though he couldn't stand the high-flying ideals that Sakura so faithfully repeated, he was in complete agreement with her that the child needed to stay here.

No schools, no cruelty. Only the big house floating out on the sea of grain. Blue light shining on the glossed wood floors, and every screen open to the wide world. This was where she needed to be.

"So just keep her safe," Sakura's voice broke through his thoughts. "Tell her not to talk to anyone she doesn't know. Pretty much keep doing what I suspect you've already been doing."

The little girl stretched just then, yawned, and rubbed her eyes. Katsuro loosened his hold and looked down at her, expecting her to wake up. But she turned her head and drifted off again. Katsuro shook his head lightly in amazement.

As a shinobi, Katsuro knew that sleep was the most vulnerable time. It was the perfect time to attack. And driving an opponent to sleep deprivation was as fatal a wound as any weapon could deliver.

But now he saw the other side. To feel safe enough to just drop off to sleep, it was an ultimate sign of trust.

The girl stretched, moved again, then yawned.

Suddenly she looked up, and Katsuro smiled down gently, not wanting to startle her in case she'd forgotten whose lap she'd climbed up on.

She rubbed her eye with a knuckle, smiled sleepily, then held up two fingers.

His throat went tight. Apparently whatever she saw in him, she accepted as just another piece of him. Nothing to be afraid of. It was nice to think of it that way.

"Yeah," he laughed softly. "Two." He held up two fingers of his own. Well, he thought, whether she sensed something or was just counting, it fit. She'd gotten that right. Whatever he was, deep down, he was two of it.

Across the table, the grandparents watched fondly. Then, in an instant, she was awake. The little girl hopped down, then ran around table, giving hugs and tittering away about anything and everything.

"Nap time's over," Sakura said with a laugh. And they began clearing up the table.

They stood in the doorway, preparing to leave. "And I need to come by for some checkups," Sakura said, pointing to the grandmother's hands, "so I can make sure everything is alright. If that's ok with you?"

She nodded, pleased beyond belief.

The grandfather was silently frowning. He fixed his gaze on Katsuro and rubbed his chin.

"You'll both come?" he grunted.

Sakura looked anxiously from the grandfather to Katsuro. They hadn't gotten on very well at lunch. Was he saying he didn't want the young man around?

"Is there a problem with that?" Katsuro answered, unable to keep the defensive tone out of his voice.

"Of course not," the old man said, relaxing his demeanor with a wave of his hand. "Just making sure. Don't want to get her hopes up if you weren't."

"No. I'll come," he said firmly, and looked to Sakura with that same determination she was coming to know so well. She smiled in response.

After polite farewells, they headed back up the path. When they finally reached the lane, beyond sight of the house, Sakura breathed a sigh of relief.

"She must have detected your henge, but was too young to understand."

Katsuro just silently nodded, absolutely relieved to have her so handily explain the whole thing.

"And you don't have to come if it's too far out of the way—"

"No," he interrupted. "I can come. Maybe not every time, but I'll figure out a way to make it work."

Sakura just smiled, inwardly pleased that the brash rogue had such a tender side.

"You were very sweet to her," she said finally.

It was his turn not to answer. He shrugged and smiled, then looked out across the valley. The bright sky reflected in his eyes.

"It's really beautiful out here, isn't it. Perfect. Like nothing bad could ever happen."

Sakura nodded, sweeping her gaze across the fertile land. But there was a wistful note in his voice she couldn't ignore.

"She's happy and safe here," she said, bolstering him just as she did the grandparents. "And she has us to look out for her."

Sakura shook his arm, trying to rattle him out of his suddenly pensive mood. "I think she'll be just fine."

It worked, he laughed a little. "Yeah. You're right."

* * *

The effortless rhythm continued through the rest of the summer and into the early fall. She told him where she would be, and he would be there. The missions were never taxing, and afforded her plenty of time to visit with him.

When she first began accepting these solo missions, she simply took them in the order they came in. But now, she kept an eye toward distance, accepting those first, then ticking off the smaller jobs on her way back home.

It worked well, and no one was any wiser. This way, she always knew where she would be well in advance of the mission. And she could spend more time with him.

And, if she had to guess, he felt the same way. Stretching out the missions, accompanying her nearly to the border. He would never say how far he could go, but Sakura could guess now that if he said "I can walk with you for a little bit," that he would be with her all the way to the farm with the little chakra sensor.

The henge always gave her a twinge of guilt, but seeing the child's pleasure, and the obvious happiness that it brought Katsuro, she never mentioned her discomfort. It was strange enough seeing the image of Sasuke prancing about a field, laughing and throwing the girl in the air. She found herself laughing at him more than once, just because his actions were simply so far from the real Sasuke.

But she could never mistake the two.

Disguised as Sasuke, Katsuro's movements were raw and relaxed. However, the real Sasuke exercised restraint in all things. He was captivating to watch the few times she'd seen him fight, but his elegant efficiency was just a veneer. He simply didn't see his opponents as worth spending the energy on.

This false Sasuke in front of her had no problem making a fool of himself. He had raced up the lane, played a game of tag, and carried the girl back to greet Sakura. Child propped on his hip, Katsuro hovered in front of her, black eyes glittering. Katsuro knew it made her laugh, and he delighted in acting as goofy as possible. Sakura shooed him on, and the two had a little race back down the lane.

The late afternoon sun was warm all around them, it's golden light clinging to the bent reeds and the tips of their fly-away hair. A myriad winged creatures fluttered up from the edge of the path as they ran past.

She would never tell him, but Sakura decided Katsuro's version might just be an improvement on the real Sasuke.

Even if she didn't have to heal the grandmother's hands she would still find a reason to come here. The child was sweet, but Katsuro's happiness was hers now. Just to see him so relaxed, freed from the burden his association with that group seemed to place on him.

She paused for a moment. She supposed in that way he and Sasuke were alike. Both were bound by someone else's orders. But at least here, Katsuro was able to shake free of it for a while.

He beckoned her from the doorway, then made a face to the delight of the young girl hanging on his pant leg. Sakura laughed too, and with a few quick steps she passed through the door.

* * *

**Author's notes:** Ok, so this chapter was supposed to wrap up the Perfect with a Part 2, but there was more that insisted on being written. So there will be a Perfect, Part 3. Hurray for more naru/saku! And again, I can't wait to share. So, next chapter in a few short weeks. Thanks so much for all the great comments! They mean so much! As always, check the website for spoiler notes and early previews! Please read and review!

**Chapter notes:** Chapter starts with interaction with Sasuke, and the Uchiha manages to weave his way through the whole thing. Funny, lots of shifting disguises in this one — it just came out that way! Also, deepening the bond between Katsuro and Sakura, which forces her to compare her ties to her team. Anyway, I'm linking Team 7 together in a different way. Katsuro is encountering lots of new things, like Sakura's very effective diplomacy skills and the little girl's openess. And a lot of this will play out into the next chapter as well.

• _Her words had been thrown away, dismissed as nothing more than empty flattery. He still saw her as beneath him! _— a play on Sasuke's attitude from the manga toward Naruto.

• _"Or you could just kill each other, and save me the trouble," he said dryly, pulling of another crate. —_ Sai is hard to write the way he is presented in the manga and have him not come across insane or stupid. He's neither. So I'm writing him as emotionally stunted. He can show sarcasm or other emotions, but he is just woefully uncomfortable, so I have him simply opting out of a lot of situations. To me, it's more believable as there are many people in real life who 'fly under the radar' that way. This works well for a Root agent, but not so much for a friendship or partnership. I hope it's coming through in the few times I've written about him.

• _This ridiculously happy Sasuke stopped in front of her and threw out his arms. "Whaddya think?" He spun around. "Better?" _— so fun to write. — Twist on Naruto henging as Sasuke in the manga.

• _Katsuro on Sakura's medic skills and diplomacy skills —_ He watches her with fascination as she heals the grandmother. Similar to the manga, he thinks her skill is amazing. No one else really comments on it except him. And her diplomacy…. I'm trying to write about some other aspects of being a medic that Sakura might face. The whole yellow light, antiseptic smell, long hours at the hospital thing has been done and done again. So I'm trying to imagine other situations she might encounter. As a medic, she's got to be a representative of her village, in all situations. She's got to give orders, read the room, and tell people what they may not want to hear. So, in short, be diplomatic. She has additional duties here than just as a medic, but I think the diplomatic skills fall into line with her character.

• _Sakura was wrong. Apparently, he still knew more about her own village than she did. Itachi had never been reserved about the dark side of Konoha. He knew there was a shadow group that sought out talented children to raise as weapons. Wasn't he was living proof of that? —_ Reference to Root, Danzou, and some of the embellished stories that Itachi has told Katsuro to keep him from never seeking out Konoha.

• _She paused for a moment. She supposed in that way he and Sasuke were alike. Both were bound by someone else's orders. But at least here, Katsuro was able to shake free of it for a while. _— No opinion here from Sakura, but a subtle recognition that Sasuke is also caught in someone else's web. It's a nice resolution to a chapter where he's referenced a lot, but not often there.


	23. Perfect, Part 3

Chapter 23 - Perfect, Part 3

The branch bounced once, rattling the leaves around him. He knew it was careless, but he wasn't slowing down. Knees buckled, he launched into the darkness towards the next limb.

Katsuro hoped he could still catch her tonight. It was so late, it would be a miracle really. But she'd waited this late before, he told himself. That thought alone kept him pushing off the branches with greater force. Hoping against hope that she would still be there.

Her missions were carrying her farther afield, for longer periods of time. Which was sometimes great, but sometimes hard. Like tonight.

He'd had to scramble to get this last job done, then cross the vast dark countryside to get to her. And even now, he didn't know if he'd make it in time.

He creaked onto a branch then shot off again, shuddering the tree's canopy in his wake.

But if she was out there, waiting for him, he knew now he'd go to any length to see her. This partnership with Sakura was mesmerizing. He found himself wanting it more and more.

And he didn't know for certain, but he thought she might — just might — feel the same about him. He smiled to himself, dragging in a deep low breath, and launched extra-hard from the next branch.

It didn't matter when or how he got there, she was always happy to see him. That sweet, expectant smile, like she had been looking out for him. And she never asked anything, still honoring that unspoken agreement between them. That trust was balm enough on the nights that he'd raced across miles of country just to have a few hours with her.

He didn't always arrive dirty, hungry and tired, though. Sometimes he'd be fresh and waiting for her instead, having been there all day. Then sometimes it would be several hours into the night until he'd show up. But he always managed to make it, even if it was just for a little while.

Lately though, he had taken to arriving towards the end of her mission. The pressure was off him then, and he could accompany her back to the chakra sensor's farm.

It worked out well, he certainly got more time with Sakura. But he was growing more and more aware of her solitude on these assignments. The first visit to the little girl's farm was what sparked it.

He never worried about anything. Ever. Fear, which controlled so many of the men around him, simply was not a problem for him. He feared getting caught, he supposed. But he never worried about getting hurt. His wounds would always heal, and, if driven far enough to access his true power, his opponents didn't stand a chance. And he _never_ thought about anyone else.

Katsuro landed softly on a branch, only the whisper of movement in the leaves this time, and dropped to a squat. His fingers skimmed the cool bark at his feet.

_There had never been anyone else to think about. Until now._

Over the next hill, the lights from the town cast a round glow on the horizon. The nights were growing cooler with the changing seasons, but summer seemed determined to hold on. Tonight the air was still soft and sweet. And somewhere, beyond that dark line of a hill, she was waiting for him.

Maybe.

He blinked, refocusing. He'd needed to check his bearings and keep going.

He was familiar with this area, that would save him some time at least. He wouldn't have to scout around to find the most likely spot. The towns here were older, built against the hillsides for protection ages ago. Which meant the most secluded area should be where the town gave way to the rising land. He hoped his hunch was right, and leapt off towards the dark slopes.

Noiselessly, Katsuro made his way down toward the town. He moved through the wooded outskirts, always watching the trails for any sign of her. But there were none. He circled closer, keeping to the trees just at the edge of the town. From there, he could peer down into the dimly lit lanes. But each one was empty

Hope was fading. He continued to the highest roads, and down the other side, but still there was nothing.

The longer he looked, the more a deep fear took hold in him. The one that had been slowly coming on for weeks now. If he felt a wisp of worry about the little girl, about her safety in an unkind world, then thinking about Sakura, and what she might face on her solitary assignments, was like standing at the edge of a dark abyss.

_What if something's gone wrong this time…._

He shook his head and continued going. It was stupid to feel this way. She was a kunoichi — a powerful one. She was always on her own and perfectly capable of defending herself.

Still, he quickened his pace as he moved back up the woodland to the top of the sloping town.

Besides, if he truly felt that way about her, that he wanted to be near her, available just in case she needed him...just like a true partner, his treacherous mind whispered…then what was he doing out here?

The branch groaned under his foot just then. A stray dog rooting through trash perked up it's ears, looked around warily. Katsruo quickly leapt to the next limb, irritated with himself for his distracted attention.

His concern for her was cracking his own resolve. He was out here for his group, she was here for her village. _His village,_ he thought with an angry burn. And that was the beginning and end of it.

A partnership with her was something _he knew_ he could never have. No matter how much more time he wanted with her.

Yet even as he vowed it, he was quickly looking down each street, desperately scanning for a flash of pink, hoping for a glance of anyone now. That panicky feeling ratcheting back up again. She still hadn't shown.

He was almost to the top again, where the main road dwindled to a thin footpath over the hill. He had scoured it first and come back to check it a few times, but he decided now, after one last look, he'd take to the rooftops. Perhaps she'd left him a sign—

At that moment, Sakura stepped out of a shadowed lane ahead of him, crossed hurriedly over the dimly lit cobblestones and disappeared up the forest path.

Katsuro nearly overshot the next branch. He leapt after her, relief swelling in his chest.

And as he landed on the forest floor, watched her turn in a whirl, already smiling, everything became clear. He knew that he'd been lying to himself: He was out here for her. And he simply didn't care about the rest.

"I was so afraid I'd missed you," she whispered. But her smile couldn't mask an underlying tightness in her expression.

Katsuro tipped his head. Something was troubling her.

Closing the distance between them, he could see she was tired. He was too, it was late. But there was something else...

"How's this one going?" he asked, already knowing her answer. It never changed.

"It's fine," she sighed, yet surprisingly, she continued on. "But I can't stay long. I was lucky enough just to get away."

He frowned. "Something's wrong, I can tell," he said, as if affirming his fears from earlier. And he knew where to lay the blame. "Have they given you one that's too—"

"Oh, no, no. This one's the same as the rest," Sakura said, tiredly waving off his concern. "I mean, it's the same, but there's more to it." She shook her head at her garbled words.

"The same as the rest," he echoed. "You mean, like—" but he let it drop. He had nothing. They never spoke about these things.

"It's like the first one," she said finally. He'd never helped her any other time. She'd never really needed it.

"Oh! The kid stealing food?"

"Yeah," she said, chuckling at the memory.

A sudden yawn overtook her. Stifling it, she scrubbed her hands over her face. When she pulled her fingers down, Katsuro was watching her intently. The fringe of hair at her throat wavered a little. She plastered on a weak smile, but he only frowned back.

The concern for her, so fresh in his mind, still weighed on him. He needed to make sure she knew…he needed to hear himself say it.

His gaze deepened in intensity. "Listen," he said firmly. "I know you say it's fine, and I know you are more than capable of taking care of yourself. But if you ever need me, if it's ever too much, all you have to do is ask. And I'll help out however I can."

"Th-thanks." Sakura was surprised. And touched. Deeply. His words, his concern, was more care than she received from her own teammates.

But Katsuro continued to study her drawn face, and thought maybe he'd not said enough. Maybe he should tell her just how much he worried about her. The gripping fear that he could not reason away, no matter how hard he tried. The dark abyss, the vulnerability that her presence had opened up in his life. What if something _had_ happened, what if he was too late—

"Actually," she said, her hand soft on his arm, her voice cutting across his swirling thoughts, "there is something you could help me with."

"Yes, of course!" Katsuro said, more than a little relieved to have some physical activity. His usefulness to her was an anchor in this unfamiliar maelstrom of emotions.

Sakura quickly filled in the details while they edged back down through the town. Along with her diplomatic mission, she had been asked to run surveillance on an entirely different matter, some low level robberies. Nothing dangerous, no need to apprehend. Just an official confirmation, and they would handle the rest.

Sakura hedged, trying to work out how to say no and not offend them. Then they offered to pay extra. And there was simply no way she could back out after that. So she had been stuck for the better part of four days observing trade negotiations, only to sit up each night and watch the back door of an old warehouse.

They wound through the maze of streets, sticking to the shadows, until she arrived at a narrow cut-through between two buildings. A sturdy crate blocked the end of the long, dingy path. It was angled in just the right spot to let Sakura sit under the cover of darkness and watch the nondescript door of the nondescript building opposite her.

Sakura slid to the far side of the crate, leaving room for Katsuro. Climbing up after her, he made himself comfortable, his arm smashed up against hers.

"You ok?" he whispered. She nodded back, flashing a quick smile at him. She was better than ok. She was glad he was there. Even this monotony was better when you weren't alone in it.

They leaned back and sat for hours more. And nothing happened.

A thin cat slinked out of the darkness, sniffing the air. Two sets of eyes lazily followed the cat's progress. Eventually it melted back between the two buildings, and they shifted their gaze back to the doorway. It had been the only activity all night.

After what felt like another hour, Katsuro whispered, "How much longer?"

"Not much," she sighed wearily. "If he hasn't shown up by now, he probably won't."

They waited just a little longer, then hopped off the crate, and headed toward the empty street. Keeping to the shadows, they crossed over to the warehouse. Sakura wanted to check the lock before turning in.

Off duty, Katsuro by her side, Sakura's mind was already wandering to more pleasant thoughts. She remembered something….

She bumped her shoulder into his. "Hey, I brought you some—"

A sudden scuffling noise ricocheted around the corner of the building. Someone was coming. But there was no way to get back across the road to the alley without being seen.

Instead they dove for cover in the deep doorway of a neighboring storefront. The decorative lattice only went halfway down, giving the pair just enough cover if they stayed low. And hopefully, whoever it was wouldn't walk their way.

Sakura peered out above the half panel, shifting her head to see through the holes in the lattice. Squatting behind her, Katsuro looked around too, but the criss-crossed wood made getting a clear view nearly impossible.

The footsteps became louder. A tall man rounded the corner.

Sakura recognized him. "It's the night watchman," she whispered back to Katsuro. The man shook the fat lock over the door latch.

"The night watchman?" There was a frown in his voice. "Isn't that a good thing?"

She shifted her weight onto her other leg, dropping her knee into the dirt for support.

"No," she hissed. A pebble ground into her kneecap. "He's the one who they think has been stealing."

Sakura reflexively shifted again, but this time she was a little off-balanced. She curled her fingertips around the edge of the panel to steady herself. Which would have been fine, if a stray twig wasn't lodged into the wood just under her hand. Unknowingly, when she released her grip, she also freed the branch.

It clattered to the ground just outside the doorway.

Sakura gasped. The man swung around quickly, looking hard, on alert. But that was all she saw.

Ducking fast, Sakura leaning bodily back into Katsuro. And he seemed to curl around her in anticipation. His knees moved quickly in time with her, giving her space to lean back. One hand was lightly on her shoulder, keeping her from toppling over. His breath stirred the hairs at her ear.

They huddled in the slanted shadow, barely moving. Waiting. Sakura glanced down into the darkness. Beside her leg, only the round outline of Katsuro's knee was visible. But she could feel the warmth of his body just the same. It was unexpectedly reassuring. He moved the hand at her shoulder, when he was sure she had her balance. Sakura thought for a briefest moment how well they worked together. Better than anyone she knew. It was seamless.

Outside, the man rattled the lock again. Sakura raised up slowly and peered through the lattice.

"What's he doing," Katsuro breathed.

"Nothing. Yet."

The man was looking around the building, inspecting corners then the roofline. Pretty standard stuff, actually. Eh, maybe he was just a guard, she thought.

"I don't think he's the one. He seems to just be doing his job." She relaxed her shoulders. "Looks like he's getting ready to leave."

"Good," Katsuro said, shifting back. He knocked her hip pack in the process.

But as the words left her mouth, the man did something odd: He reached up and slid his hand along the edge of the doorframe. Then down the sides. Then he kicked at the dirt beside the door.

Was he looking for a spare key? Something to break the lock with? Or was he making sure there was no way anyone else could? Sakura was running through possible explanations when the contents of her hip pack shifted again.

What _was_ he doing back there? Sakura cut Katsuro a look over her shoulder, but he only gazed at her innocently.

When she looked back out to the watchman, he was apparently satisfied with his night's work. He rattled the lock one last time, straightened his tunic and head back the way he came. Sakura followed him with her eyes, not sure what to make of him. She didn't even know if it was worth reporting. He was obviously doing his job, although the thorough inspection at the end was a bit much. She tipped her head. It was just strange—

A sweet lemony scent sparkled through the stuffy air of their hiding spot. Was she dreaming? Sakura sniffed again. No, definitely lemon. And getting stronger.

Suddenly, she narrowed her eyes. She knew exactly what that was.

Sakura pivoted on her heels to face Katsuro.

"Candy."

He smiled. It was a wide, conspicuously closed-lipped smile.

"You got the candy out of my pack. _That's_ what you were doing."

She had been concentrating so hard on the man's actions, she didn't realize Katsuro was digging through her pack.

"Aw Sakura-chan," he said around a mouthful of the chewy rice candy. "How can you walk around with that stuff and not eat it!"

"It was supposed to be a surprise," she said in mock frustration.

He popped another one in his mouth, one cheek fat with candy, the other stretched into a giddy smirk.

"Shur-prizsh!"

He knew she wasn't mad. He knew for a fact she kept that candy in there for him now. She used to only carry two or three; now she carried a whole handful of them. And he made sure to eat every one before she left again. Well, nearly every one. If he remembered in time, he'd save some for the little girl. Sometimes.

She smiled and rolled her eyes. Ok, she thought, maybe their harmony was a little too good.

* * *

The warm breeze pushed silently across the field, only to clatter through the rust-brown leaves overhead. Several rained down, including one leaf that stuck right into the bangs of Katsuro's disheveled brown hair. Sakura watched him feel around for it, laughing while he nearly crossed his eyes.

After a moment she continued walking, following the rutted cart path out of the wood line and down into a yellowed, overgrown field.

Untangling the jagged leaf, Katsuro held it in his open palm. The dull brown was nearly the color of his hair. _Ironic,_ he thought, then crunched it in his fist.

But no one would notice him out here, he told himself again. And again, the reassurance was hardly assuring, but he pushed on anyway.

He stood at the tree line, sweeping his gaze over the wide open field. Everything seemed safe here. And he had to admit, the warm fall breeze felt nice on his skin. It was one of the sensations that a henge dulled, just slightly.

The missions were pushing farther and farther out. But, for him, Sakura always found the most circuitous route.

Thin paths, little used trails, and farm roads were their lot now. They hardly saw anyone. Only locals, never even a government official, let alone a shinobi. Those were a rare sighting on these sleepy byways.

After a few times, Katsuro hardly saw a need for any henge.

The few old farmers they passed paid them no mind. And these hamlets were simply too small to draw notice of anyone's attention, from other Konoha nins or his own group.

The thought was part thrilling, part nerve-wracking. But when he mentioned it to Sakura, her whole face lit up at the prospect. To have him, beside her, without disguise — she was thrilled. And that did it. How could he say no. He'd just have to push past his discomfort.

Which actually wasn't as hard as he thought it would be. He had forgotten he had a partner in this: Sakura was another set of eyes and ears, always on alert as well. He hadn't taken her into account, but she was watching out for him too.

And, the few times they did pass someone, Sakura always said hello, made eye contact, and diverted any attention away from him. Katsuro never said anything, and made sure to keep his face tipped away. Old habits died hard, he supposed.

And thus he made another surprising discovery: If he thought he would have to fend off prying looks or well-meaning interrogations from the local farmers, he was wrong.

He noticed that, while traveling with Sakura, no one even looked at him.

People saw her hair, then her open expression. And they greeted her pleasantly, never sparing a glance at him. He almost forgot he was walking around without a henge.

He had grown so accustomed to it that approaching the small towns only gave him a ripple of discomfort now. Yet he knew the complacency he felt with her was dangerous. He knew it objectively, like a rote lesson. He knew he shouldn't feel comfortable with her, shouldn't feel safe. But he did. And it was the strongest pull he'd ever felt in his life. Well, almost.

Opening his fist, he let the breeze blow the shattered leaf from his hand. More dead leaves clattered down around him. Katsuro followed Sakura into the lane before any more could snag on him.

The autumn days were still warm, but all around were signs of impending winter. The brown leaves, the wildly overgrown field, the noticeable lack of farmers, bustling by on the rural roads. Even approaching a sleepy hillside town they hadn't seen a soul. Inwardly Katsuro relished the solitude. Well, as long as she was part of it.

Ahead of him, Sakura stopped suddenly on the rutted path. She turned her head to the side, and he just caught the slight curl of her smile, her eyes narrowed. But before he could decide whether her expression was sweet or wicked, she sailed her hand over the waist-high weeds at the edge of the road.

He slowed his pace. It was like something from a dream.

Feather-light seeds exploded into the air around him, golden filament making everything glimmer. They spun, drifted and dropped in a soft haze around him. He stopped, opening a palm, watching the impossibly fine fibers spill over his hand like water.

It was only then that he heard Sakura's laughter.

Glancing up, he didn't realized she had turned back to watch him. The seeds were settling thickly on him now, little wisps clinging to his sleeves, his chest, everywhere, and she laughed again. Sakura had pulled a little prank of her own.

She crossed the lane and swept her hand over more of the tall plants, releasing yet another cloud of seeds. This one swirled with the slight breeze, climbing into the air over the lane and hanging weightless before slowing drifting back to earth.

His feet felt glued to that spot. All he could do was watch. The shimmering fibers encircled them like that marvelous genjutsu. But this was no illusion. At least, he hoped not.

Because in the middle, coming straight towards him, was Sakura. That mischevious smile curving up her lips, the sun threading gold through her hair. Downy seeds swirling to the ground in her wake.

She stopped, toes to toes, and stood smiling into his face. She was so close their noses nearly touched. The pale freckles that dotted the tops of her cheeks swam in front of him…. Katsuro swallowed, suddenly nervous.

Sakura bit her lip, holding back a wider grin. Then her eyes, followed by her whole face, tipped up toward his hair.

Raising up on her toes, Sakura's pale arm slipped into the corner of his vision. She lightly dusted his hair. More gossamer threads showered down.

"I wish..." she said softly, rocking back to her heels, catching his eyes and pausing for one long moment.

Katsuro was transfixed. The sun shone through her hair, casting her face in a peach light. A few gold seeds clung to her, sparkling in the strands. Her wistful green eyes were so striking against the sun-warmed colors she was bathed in. His chest went tight at the picture she made.

"I wish you could come home with me," she said.

Katsuro's stomach flipped.

_Wh-What? Home? To Konoha?_ Whatever he expected her to say, _that _wasn't it. And he couldn't scrape together an excuse fast enough. However she didn't seem to notice the turmoil she'd thrown him in.

"But, I know how you feel, about villages," she said with a sigh, then glanced quickly back at his face, "and I know who you're with..."

Katsuro was frozen still. He didn't know if she expected a response.

Apparently she didn't. With another sigh, she reached over to brush the last wispy seeds off his shoulders as she turned from him.

"I just wish this didn't have to end," she said quietly, watching the seeds float off over the field. She slowly completed the turn and resumed walking. But she only got a few more steps before stopping and drawing a deep breath. As if strengthening her resolve.

"I wish you were on my team," she said over her shoulder. "Not theirs."

Neither moved. Sakura looked out at the field, Katsuro looked at her back.

But she broke the tableau first: With a small, almost resigned shrug, she turned back and began walking again.

"Sa-Sakura…."

It suddenly occurred to him that he should try to express how he felt. The worry, the hope. How much it all meant, and how afraid he was that it would all slip away. That somehow it was a beautiful illusion. But what would he say? Something. _Anything._

Katsuro shook himself and dashed the few steps to catch up with her. Wrapping his hand around her upper arm, he tugged her to face him.

"You know none of the other stuff matters to me," he said urgently. His fingers grazed the ripple of skin from the scar. He cringed and slid his hand down but didn't let go.

Katsuro looked into her questioning eyes. He wondered if she could tell, if she could somehow intuit the feelings that he barely had words for.

She smiled softly under his open gaze. The hair at her throat fluttered up.

No, he didn't know what to say. But he knew how he felt. Katsuro swallowed dryly and scraped his thumb over her skin.

"All I care about is—"

A loud coughing sound rattled down the lane. Katsuro and Sakura instantly jumped apart.

Laughing deeply, a crusty old farmer stood just a few paces from them, holding his side in mirth, apparently pleased with his own prank of waiting till the two got really close before he interrupted them. And he kept laughing as he passed right between them, threadbare sack thrown over his shoulder.

Sakura nodded a greeting at the man. But the moment between them was lost.

In the heavy silence, Sakura was left standing at one side of the lane, arm folded across her stomach, fingers wrapped around her upper arm where he was just holding it.

Across the lane, Katsuro stood, one hand propped at his hip, the other rubbing across the back of his neck. His face felt sunburned.

"What were you—"

"I was just—"

They both chuckled at their sudden awkwardness. But it broke the tension. Both stepped back out into the lane and resumed walking. Sakura was silent, working out a way to reopen their conversation.

But for Katsuro, the interruption had thrown him into greater disarray.

_What was he thinking. _His feelings had coalesced so easily, the words tripping forth as effortlessly as the golden fibers swirling around them.

But it wasn't that easy. And he knew it. Though he wanted her to know how much she meant to him, he knew there was much more, _so much more_, that he couldn't tell her.

Eyes fixed on the ground, he blew out a low breath. Sakura couldn't help but notice his change in mood. He felt her gaze on him, and knew he had to come up with something.

He cleared his throat, gave a wobbly smile. "I was just going to say that I feel the same way," he said lamely.

"Oh," she said, deflated.

If Sakura suspected more of him, it didn't matter. The sound of another traveler split them up again.

The man wheeled a cart down the path and greeted Sakura congenially as he slowly passed through. He didn't even notice Katsuro.

Watching the man pull the cart to a halt and speak to Sakura, Katsuro felt like another moment had slipped through his fingers. He wasn't able to tell her how he really felt, and worse, now he was looking at her from the outside.

If she were alone on this mission, this whole scene would be going on without him. She would be smiling, talking, pointing up the lane. He watched her animated face and thought about how much he would miss seeing it if he weren't there. His chest felt tight.

Just then, a stray breeze dislodged the unruly lock of hair she always tucked behind her ear.

The corner of his mouth tipped up in a smile. He loved that little curl, the one that would not be held back.

Sakura combed the hair back reflexively, then flashed a knowing look at Katsuro over the top of the cart.

"Stop," she mouthed with a smile when the farmer's attention was diverted.

He shook his head in smiling confusion.

The old farmer was oblivious. He chatted on, never noticing Sakura's divided attention, then waved his hand in a brisk farewell. The cart trundled on.

"What was wrong," Katsuro said as they stepped back down into the wheel tracks.

"You did that little thing you do," she said, wiggling her fingers at the tips of her hair. "You know, with the breeze?"

"I didn't do anything," he said, utterly confused.

She shot him a skeptical smile. "Really? You mean you _didn't_ knock my hair loose when I was talking to that man?"

"N-no, I wouldn't even know how to..."

Just then, the autumn weeds around them wavered, the tips jostled together sending thin puffs of seeds in the air. Katsuro held out his hand to the obvious breeze blowing lightly all around them. "I think maybe you're imagining things," he laughed.

"Uh-huh," she intoned, sounding like she didn't believe him at all.

They continued over the rolling wild fields, both seemingly content to leave the awkwardness behind them. But silently, privately, both felt the loss of something…something intangible that had slipped away…something that still was unspoken between them. There was simply no way around it, though.

The road was flattening out and taking on more rocks than dirt, until it was transformed completely into the only cobbled road of a tiny hillside community. It ran like a knobby dry riverbed down the hill, with brown clapboard buildings clustered on either side. Only the flattest, widest stones took pride of place down the center of the steeply angled road.

Katsuro gauged the size the town. It was small enough to escape notice; he'd leave off the henge. Sakura glanced over in silent question. He shook his head, and she smiled brightly. If he had any doubts, that decided it. But he still had to push past the dull knot in his gut that came with the risk.

They both looked up at the steep lane. Katsuro bit back a sigh, it looked more like a mountain than a hill. But Sakura was clearly anxious to get going.

And it wasn't hard to guess why: Though the buildings were old and a bit shabby, the road was decked out like a festival. Potted plants softened the sharp incline of the road. Lanterns hung jauntily from the rooftops. Colorful awnings shaded many doorways and were adorned with lamps, ribbons, anything and everything to draw a passerby to inspect the wares.

Storefronts and residences shared the lane, and everyone seemed to have something for sale. Produce was piled on brightly colored cloths on the doorsteps. Goods were propped on small tables.

It seemed to be a happy, safe place. Children darted across the road, dogs barked, and smells of cooking food wafted from the doorways of homes.

They walked slowly. It was a feast for the eyes, and Katsuro didn't know where to look first. But Sakura was moving ahead of him, admiring the stands, speaking to the townspeople.

As he had become accustomed to, Sakura drew the attention. He wasn't too far behind, but no one noticed him. It was strange. He'd spent his life keeping to the shadows or hiding behind disguises. And now he was out in the open, and no one cared.

He felt strangely light. Like some invisible tethers had been released. Like he had no other concerns in the world.

Ahead of him, Sakura was slowing, something had caught her eye. She ducked under an old awning to admire the items spread out on the table. Pale arm extending slowly, she let her fingers just touch the object of her interest.

Katsuro's curiosity was piqued. _What did she like? _He knew she had another life, though he didn't like to think about it. What could someone sell that she would be interested in? New weapons? Medical supplies? _Candy?_

He didn't know. There was probably a lot he didn't know about her, he decided. But he discarded the unhappy thought and quickened his pace to discover what had stopped her in her tracks.

The faded awning shaded the doorstep of an old home. And Katsuro guessed that it must have been the equally old owner who was tipped back in a chair on the other side of the table, head down, dozing under a threadbare old straw hat.

Katsuro came to a stop behind Sakura and was finally able to see the tabletop. It was covered with trinkets, gem stones, necklaces and amulets — all matter of things. Most were the types of garish talismans favored by old women.

But the stone that Sakura's fingers rested on was entirely different.

"Isn't it pretty?" she said quietly as he looked over her shoulder.

Like her, he was drawn to it. The slim rectangular green pendant glinted away in the sunlight, sparkling brighter than all the others.

Katsuro tipped his head to the side. It did have an unusual quality about it. As if lit from within.

Reaching around her, he lifted the necklace up by it's thin black cord to get a better look. The pendant swung gently in front of their faces, catching the sunlight. And it was more remarkable than he'd first thought.

Rich glossy greens fused with a deeper emerald color at the edges. A few pale blotches of green streaked across the surface. As it swung, light flashed through at just the right angle, rendering the little streaks nearly white against the dark green for a moment.

"Wow," Sakura breathed.

Katsuro agreed. It was beautiful. But when he slid his eyes from the pendant to her face, his breath caught in his throat.

Her eyes matched the stone perfectly.

They held the same depth, the same lit-from-within quality. It was all there, the same striations of green, darks and lights together. Like looking up at the canopy of a tree.

Katsuro flicked his gaze back to the stone. The sunlight shot through just then, illuminating the white streaks.

'Clouds,' he thought, mouth going dry. It reminded him of her eyes on the day they spent under the tree.

"It's— It's perfect," was all he could manage to whisper.

Sakura smiled sweetly, her hand just brushing the outside of his sleeve. But a small cluster of children a few steps away was already diverting her attention.

Katsuro could hear their excited voices, "Go ask if she's really a ninja!" "No, you ask!" With a soft laugh Sakura moved towards them.

Katsuro slowly lowered his arm and cupped the pendant in his hand. He bounced it lightly, enjoying its cool smoothness, the pleasant weight, wondering how it would feel—

"Sacred stone, that one is," a gruff voice cut across Katsuro's thoughts.

Katsuro turned suddenly. He had completely forgotten about the old man.

But the man just nodded at the stone swinging from Katsuro's fist. "Said to be the link between heaven and earth."

Katsuro quickly dropped the necklace back to the table.

The old man peered at him through the holes in the battered old hat, not bothering to lift his head.

"So, you gonna buy it or what?" he bristled.

"What?" Katsuro said, a little embarrassed, rubbing his neck self conciously.

"That one there. The jade one," he grumbled. The man made a big show of letting his chair fall forward on it's two front legs. Creaking a wrinkled arm out over the rest of the baubles, he caught up the green necklace and dangled it from his fingers in the sunlight.

He lowered his voice, letting the words drag out. "The one that looks like her eyes."

Peering conspiratorially at Katsuro, the old man's black eyes glinted like one of the cold stones he was hawking.

"I...uh..." Katsuro stalled.

'Sly old man,' he thought, 'he's been watching, hoping for a sale.' He thought about the necklace again. _Or maybe just pointing out the obvious._

He glanced up the road. Sakura was still preoccupied with the other townspeople.

"How much is it again?" Katsuro asked. The man waved his other saggy arm toward a small sign at the far edge of the table.

Katsuro coughed when he saw the prices. 'That's the end of that,' he thought.

He barely had enough money to cover himself on these 'errands.' And he was almost out of what he had for this one. If he wanted anything extra, he knew he'd have to skip meals on several missions just to save up.

"Sorry, no money," Katsuro said flatly.

The old man grumbled something indistinct, then rubbed his chin, thinking. "I can do better on that price," he said slowly, "especially for you two."

But his ploy only made Katsuro feel worse.

"Nah, really, I don't have any money," he said earnestly.

The old man sat back in his seat, knocked the tattered straw brim up and looked sharply at Katsuro.

"You mean to tell me you've got a pretty thing like that," he pointed a knobby finger in Sakura's direction, "and you don't have a single coin on you?"

"Yeah," Katsuro said laughing, looking up the road involuntarily.

It dawned on him that perhaps he had been wrong. People did see him, or rather, them. They just automatically assumed they were a couple. That thought made Katsuro a little delirious.

Just then, Sakura turned and looked back for him. Katsuro gave her a staccato wave.

"I'm pretty lucky," he said, smiling broadly, eyes still on her.

"I'll say you are," the old man grumbled. "You better hold on to her tight."

Katsuro watched as the old man laid the necklace back into it's spot, then tipped himself back in the chair to lean against the wall again. He readjusted his hat, pulling the brim down over his face. He looked like he was sleeping, but the angle of his hat let him look right out across the table through the tattered straw without being detected.

That's a pretty sneaky trick, Katsuro thought. Even he had figured the old man was dozing.

"If I get some money in, maybe I'll come back and get it," Katsuro offered. "Are you always here in this town?"

"Always right here," his muffled voice came back.

Katsuro trotted up the road to rejoin Sakura. She grinned as he got closer. The little clutch of people separated, turning to him with small smiles of acknowledgement before they stepped away from the kunoichi, bidding pleasant farewells.

Katsuro could see it now. The people they passed, the people who spoke to her _did_ notice him. And they saw him as part of a pair.

He nodded back to the retreating group and turned to resume walking with Sakura. The sense of belonging was intoxicating. He had to stop himself from reaching out to take her hand.

They continued up the road, moving slowly through the waning light. Though they left without making a single purchase, Katsuro felt he had gained something irreplaceable.

* * *

Much like the tiles at his feet, the charcoal rooflines staggered and overlapped until they were just a seamless smudge down the hillside. Only the slip of a road or the shuddering tip of an evergreen broke the monotony.

The grey winter sky stretched out overhead; the black spine of the building swayed out underneath. Chill morning air crept down the neck of his cloak. Katsuro rewrapped the dark fabric, trying to keep the fronts of his legs warm. Huddled there, cloak flapping out for a moment, he looked like a great black bird perched on the roofline.

Burying his head a little deeper in the collar, Katsuro tried to ignore the growling of his stomach. But finally he relented and reached back into his rucksack.

Feeling blindly for an orange, his fingers hooked around a cold, slim scroll instead. Itachi's scroll. He dropped it immediately.

Catching up the fruit, he pulled it around front and palmed it comfortably. Stomach growling again, Katsuro, without thinking, began to peel it. It's fresh scent made up for the licks of cold that broke through his cloak at the movement. But that was only a momentary distraction. Other, darker thoughts were weighing on him.

This last scroll was from Itachi directly, with specific orders to rendezvous with the group. The whole tone was different. Itachi was specific, never letting anything slip. The other assignments had just come down through the hazy chain of command. But if Itachi had returned, then Katsuro wasn't sure he could meet up with her again. At least, not with the measure of freedom he'd had.

Katsuro sighed. He knew he'd definitely have to be more careful.

Sakura's next mission wasn't until the spring, during some town's cherry blossom festival. That would at least give him time to plan out how to get there. He said he'd be there, the night before when they said their goodbyes, when they made their plans to meet again. He'd try. But it was a few months off, and so much could happen….

Which was why he was out here, waiting, when he should have been long gone.

The whispered farewell in the dim half-light at the edge of town wasn't enough. He wanted a little more. He always did. He just wanted to see her again, one last time, in the daylight. In case this time he couldn't keep his word.

Pulling his hands out from the cover of the cloak, Katsuro inspected the orange. A wave of bright fragrance fanned up from the shifting fabric, making him feel slightly better, a little less alone on his perch above the sleeping town. His stomach growled again.

Katsuro wondered off-handedly if he had missed her. Maybe she had left before dawn. Sighing softly, the ghost of his breath hung as a cloud in front of him, blurring the round edge of the orange for a moment. He hoped not.

Three fat curls of peel in one hand, he cupped the orange, about to split it with his thumb, when a door creaked nearby, breaking the stillness. Katsuro froze.

Sakura paused for a moment to adjust her pack. But even before she could finish tightening it, a deep yawn overtook her. She was well and truly tired, and she had a long journey back. She was glad that she'd been able to see him, this one last time, though. Even it did mean staying up so late just to catch a few hours with him.

She heaved her pack higher, and only got a few more steps before she had to stifle another great yawn. Rubbing her hands down her face, she decided she needed a brisk wake-up. It wouldn't do to trek through foreign lands half-asleep.

Crossing the courtyard, Sakura headed straight for the open stream-fed trough just inside the gate. A little frigid water was sure to wake her up.

Cupping her hands, Sakura scooped out the water quickly and splashed her face. The shock of the cold took her breath away, but it did the trick. She dropped her face into the cloak-covered crook of her arm to dry it, relishing the sparse warmth. Then with the edge of her cloak she wiped the water from her chin and neck, and blinked away the excess from her eyes. She certainly did feel more awake than—

What she saw when she finally focused was more startling than frigid water.

There, at the corner of the stone trough, was a perfectly peeled orange. It was sitting on a large curl of it's own peel, rocking slightly as if it had just, that very instant, been set down.

For the second time that morning, she was breathless from shock.

Cloak slipping from her fingers, Sakura worked over the scene. Had she simply missed it in her sleepy fog? Or had someone actually been there, beside her, in the half-seconds her face was covered?

She almost reached for it, then decided against it and curled her hand back. But as she looked at it a moment longer, a long-forgotten memory resurfaced, of orange segments cupped in their own peel, left just for her. A small kindness in the dark of an abandoned temple.

It was from him. She knew it.

Swiftly, Sakura scooped up the orange and peel, and turned, looking everywhere at once, trying to see if she'd missed him sneaking up behind her somehow. But she was alone in the courtyard. He must be close by, then.

In a few short steps she was out of the paling and standing in the lane, searching the dark rooftops, the edges of buildings for something out of place. But everything was silent and still.

She waited, eyes narrowed and puffed out a single breath. If she were Katsuro, where would she—

But he anticipated her, stepping out from behind a high fence at a bend in the road. Katsuro's softly grinding footfalls echoed through the silence.

She turned at the sound, already grinning.

Katsuro just stood there watching her, head tipped a little, a soft smile tugging up the corners of his mouth.

His expression told it all. He had been waiting around for her, hoping to see her. She laughed quietly, shook her head.

Katsuro didn't move toward her, he barely moved. Instead he raised one hand in farewell, fingers fluttering gently.

But Sakura understood. It would be so long before they'd see each other again. She raised her hand and slowly waved back, returning her own wistful smile.

Somewhere down the lane a dog barked. A door shut with a bang. The little town was waking up, and they both needed to be going. Their time alone was quickly drawing to a close.

She held up the orange and mouthed, "Thanks." He smiled warmly then leapt up to a black tile roof and over the top.

Sakura watched him disappear. Then, finally tightening her straps, she turned to walk back down the steep lanes and leave the town behind.

But from the spine of next roof, Katsuro stopped. Foot propped on the upturned corner, black cloak fluttering out behind him, he scanned the patchwork of grey roads and dark roofs for the flash of pink.

He stood there, following her progress down the web of tiny lanes, until the buildings blocked his view completely. Then, cloak whirling out behind him, Katsuro turned and hopped to the next building, flying roof over roof until he disappeared into the high woods.

* * *

**Author's Notes**

Thanks so much for all the reviews. I try to pm as many people as I can, but if I missed you or couldn't respond, then let me just say thankyou from the bottom of my heart.

I'm so glad everyone like the addition of the little girl. I was afraid it would be too cliche, so I took extra care when I wrote about their interactions for Katsuro and Sakura to not come off too parenting towards her, but just have fun in the same tone of the rest of the chapter. She is a piece of the puzzle, but maybe not in the way you suspect. Glad everyone has enjoyed the light-hearted scenes too, and I hope that the ones in this chapter have carried through, along with their deepening bond.

Looking ahead, Katsuro's missions will be revealed, as well as his backstory, plus the cherry blossom festival and more K/S interaction. I'll be in Washington DC for the cherry blossoms this year, so I'll have lots of inspiration! Lots more to come! As always, please read and review. And check the website for more notes.

**Chapter Notes**

Lots of notes for this chapter. Sorry! I try to keep the notes as short as possible, but there was a lot being cross-referenced in this chapter.

• Chapter is the final Perfect, from Katsuro's pov, as he mentions the necklace as being his "perfect." And hopefully the enjoyable stuff has stayed in the forefront with just the shadow of their other lives creeping into the picture every now and then.

• The theme of these three chapters has been about stolen moments, and like the dewy morning, time together that can only happen under the right circumstances.

• Also, just as in the panel of the temple painting that Katsuro reminisces about in Part 1, they have shared experiences that have transcended the seasons, with a protective, overarching tree as the centerpiece. The memories of that day spent under the tree will stay with them. Most notably for Katsuro (as hopefully you've already guessed) through the necklace. More things will surface for Sakura in some less tangible ways.

• Ending scene: wanted to write a feeling of winter in the last scene dark and cold and rather lifeless as the opposite end of the spectrum from the beginning, warm dewy Konoha scene. Different seasons, different villages, different feelings.

• _Katsuro landed softly on a branch, only the whisper of movement in the leaves this time, and dropped to a squat. His fingers skimmed the cool bark at his feet. _— He's stopped on a branch, considering her. Mirror of the first scene in Chapter 1 where he was also on a branch, considering her: "Med-nin," said the younger ninja, settling his smaller form into a crouched position on the branch. "She's our target." … The young man skimmed his fingers along the smooth bark at his feet and mentally ran through his paces…." This little quirk will appear again, much later.

• _Several rained down, including one leaf that stuck right into the bangs of Katsuro's disheveled brown hair. _— Obviously, a reference to the Konoha forehead protector

• _Katsuro was transfixed. The sun shone through her hair, casting her face in a peach light. A few gold seedlings clung to her, sparkling in the strands. —_ I think the sun through pink hair would be a lovely effect, as soft on the face as candlelight. But the peach color has deeper meaning here because it is directly reflecting the genjutsu with its "shimmery peach haze." This moment in the field is certainly not an illusion, but it hearkens back to a place that was set apart from reality. So I wrote her description to reflect those wonderful qualities.

• _"You did that little thing you do," she said, wiggling her fingers at the tips of her hair. "You know, with the breeze?" "I didn't do anything," he said, utterly confused. _— Ok, so now it's out: Sakura has some idea that wind ruffling at the edge of her hair is coming from him somehow. More on that in the coming chapters.

• _The road was flattening and taking on more rocks than dirt, until it was transformed into the only cobbled road in a tiny hillside community. — _So most stuff I try to write from an image in my mind (in this case, an idea of what an old Japanese town should look like). Well, the inspiration for this road is a world away from old Japan — it comes from the cobbled lanes of Culross, Scotland. I spent a summer in college in Scotland and England. And the lanes reminded me of dry riverbeds winding around all the buildings. It was a lovely time and a lovely summer. And if you're lucky enough to have been to Culross, well then, you're lucky enough. Just thought I'd share. It's a tiny place, but it was my inspiration for the road.

• Ahh, the necklace scene — I love this scene. All of it. This part and…ahem…the part that is still to come! :)

• _It was covered with trinkets, gem stones, necklaces and amulets — all matter of things. Most were the types of garish talismans favored by old women._ — lol. Joke about Tsunade being the old woman with the necklace in the manga.

• _"Sacred stone, that one is," a gruff voice cut across Katsuro's thoughts. "Said to be the link between heaven and earth."…. "That one there. The jade one," he lowered his voice, letting the words drag out. "The one that looks like her eyes." —_ Alright, lots here. First: obviously this is the necklace Tsunade would have given to Naruto in the manga. But this story's different, so he comes upon it a different way. Second: Sakura's eyes in Perfect Part 1 were written to match up with the necklace. So it's not a powerful talisman against the kyuubi, rather a strong connection for him to her. Third: Jade is a sacred stone, said to be the link between heaven and earth in Chinese culture. And when Team 7 passes the chunins, Naruto and Sakura are charged with finding their heaven and earth, respectively. So lovely significance there. Lastly: Nods to the gang at the Heaven and Earth forum for their kind support and for being an all-around haven for things naru/saku.

• _Though they left without making a single purchase, Katsuro felt he had gained something irreplaceable. —_ The whole chapter he has struggled with what to say about how he feels and what to hide, which is pretty much everything in his life. It's really troubling him, and nothing really troubles him. In fact for all three parts, he has felt the weight of these moments slipping away. So at the end of the necklace scene, he leaves feeling like he's part of something with her. That he's been acknowledged by others and by her as being her partner. It's a little resolution for all the internal struggles he's had.

• Closing scene with Katsuro on the rooftop — Lots of things coming full circle here, some obvious, some not. The warmth and soft colors of earlier in the summer have given way to winter. The orange and her pink hair are the only colors in this scene. And in then end, after he gives her the orange, all the color in his world leaves with her.

• _"Katsuro rewrapped the dark fabric, trying to keep the fronts of his legs warm." —_ This is a direct reference to him at the campfire with her in the beginning of Part 1, when "only moved when the low fire grew too warm on his legs." It's really the opposite now, it's colder now and he's trying to hold in the warmth. Not like earlier in the summer. Adds to the feeling of ending.

• _Sighing softly, the ghost of his breath hung as a cloud in front of him, blurring the round edge of the orange for a moment. —_ Direct reference to Sakura looking back out at the town in Part 1. "Plumes of steam hung in the air. Only red lanterns, just being lit along the streets, shone in soft rose spots through the cottoning drifts."

• _She held up the orange and mouthed, "Thanks." —_ Paraphrased line from the temple, when he peels the orange and leaves it beside her while she's sleeping.

• And finally — _Their time alone was quickly drawing to a close. _— Wrapping up the end of this chapter as well as signaling the close of this little window in time, parts 1-3. They will meet up again, but things will not be as perfectly easy as they have been.


	24. Assignments

_Author's note: Be sure to vote in the kiriban poll on my profile! Let me know what preview of an upcoming chapter you'd like to read. **hint, hint: it involves Naruto!** Full explanation in the notes at the end of the story._

* * *

Chapter 24 - Assignments

"There is no way you can back out of this one," Tsunade said flatly. "We all have to go."

Sakura stood stock still in the middle of the Hokage's office. She felt like she'd been ambushed. The only day she'd have off in weeks, and she had to spend it in front of the high council. Because of Sasuke.

"He is the head of his clan. He has the right to challenge anything they throw at him. Not that it will do him any good," Tsunade muttered, attention already shifting to the document in front of her. She scratched out her signature, then slapped the paper atop a messy pile at the corner of her desk. Behind her, cold winter sun slanted through the window, fanning gold rectangles across the floor.

So far, Sakura had managed to dodge the official summons from the council, citing prior obligations, missions or hospital duty. But this time she was out of excuses. And Tsunade knew it.

Sakura couldn't keep the frustration of her voice. "But why do _I_—"

"Because you're on his team. He has requested missions outside the village, which the council has, of course, denied." Another paper landed on the pile. "But he has laid out proof of his ability and wants to challenge their decree. You are on his team, and you are there to testify on his behalf."

Hot anger crackled to life within her. _That presumptuous…that pompous…._ Only Saskue would be arrogant enough to think he could contribute so little to the team, then expect their support at the snap of his fingers. She should have known he was up to something when he started pulling his weight.

"Nothing will come of it," Tsunade said without looking up. "Whether you agree with him or not, it doesn't matter. But it will be easier for you to show up, answer their questions and be dismissed. Otherwise he could drag this out," she grumbled and slapped down another paper. "He could have us all waiting around while he challenges every word they say."

Resigned to her fate, Sakura nodded once. Though it was a suggestion, it was as good as an order.

"Hai, Tsunade-sama," she said sullenly.

So, the next day, at the appointed time, she showed up for the council meeting.

It was the same dark room she had been in the year before for Sasuke's meeting, when Tsunade had her carrying a takeout menu instead of official documents.

The horseshoe-shaped table still ringed one side of the room, narrow benches still pushed against the opposite wall. And the same men still sat around the table, blandly shuffling papers, speaking in hushed tones, and looking as if they'd been frozen in time.

As Sakura moved to take her seat on one of the benches, she was surprised to discover how much she had changed.

The last time she was here, she was quite intimidated by the men, the room, the whole process. But the past year of missions, working with politicians very much like them, took away the mystique.

She wondered how Sasuke would bear all this out. How had he changed since the last time she saw him here, when his fiery temper met with resistance at every turn? She wondered if this new strategy involved a lighter hand with these men.

She didn't have long to consider it, as Sasuke himself came in a moment later. Shoulders tight, back as rigid as a staff, he strode proudly in, his chin just slightly tipped up.

He certainly looked different. At some point, he had taken to wearing a traditional Uchiha belted shirt over standard issue black fatigues. From where she sat, Sakura could just see the edge of the finely embroidered fan between Sasuke's shoulders. It's proud red design, outlined in black, made quite a statement against the white fabric. In fact, thinking of his position now, Sakura was pretty sure the whole outfit was meant as statement. This was his snub to the council, a constant reminder of his clan and the council's obligation to him as it's head and only remaining heir.

Sasuke dragged his eyes down the table, then swung his gaze around to the low bench. But when Sakura thought he would make eye contact, acknowledge that he had requested her attendance, as his teammate, _to support him_...there was none. He registered her presence with just a cursory glance. Then, in a soft swish of fabric, he took a seat down the bench from her and resumed staring straight ahead.

Her astonishment quickly turned to anger. She looked ahead as well, unseeing. Her thoughts spiraled until her hands were clenched so tightly her nails dug into her palms. _He brought her there. Now he acts like she has her own issue with these men!_

Frustration driving her to movement, Sakura snuck another look to the side. Sasuke sat rigidly, cold as stone, chin still tipped up in defiance. Or was it arrogance, she thought, narrowing her eyes. As if this whole meeting was an inconvenience to him, not the other way around. That he was the reason everyone was required to be here. Sitting in attendance on him.

'Nope,' she thought unkindly. 'He's still the same too.'

That realization brought with it a little equanimity. Sakura turned back, exhaled deeply and fixed her gaze on the council. She unclenched her fingers and flattened her hands in her lap. Nothing left to do but just sit back and watch the show. Tsunade had been right, best to just go along and get this over with.

The last council members filed in. Sakura noticed two vacant seats at the end, as well as the Fire Daimyo's seat in the center. Apparently neither the elders nor the Daimyo felt this meeting was important enough to attend. That spoke volumes to Sakura about how it would probably turn out.

She was just turning to see how Sasuke was handling it, when an oddly bandaged man ambled through the door. He slowly moved down the table, taking one of the empty seats at the end.

White wraps covered half his face, and probably his arm as well, Sakura thought, observing clinically how his limb folded under the cloak. Sakura knew him as Danzo, a military man with some connection to ANBU, but she was didn't know how he fit into the council.

Another white-cloaked council member strode in and took the Daimyo's seat, apparently to moderate the meeting. Tsunade and Kakashi were the last to arrive, and as soon as the door closed, the man in the center called Sasuke down to the floor.

They peppered him with questions about every aspect of his life, his training and his future prospects. Sasuke responded in his detached way, answering some and dismissing others as beneath him.

The white of Sasuke's shirt fairly glowed in the dim light. His shoulders were thrown back in confidence.

The questioning went nowhere, but Sakura was surprised by Sasuke's rather calm demeanor. These were the very same questions which, a year ago, had sent him into a fury. She amended her thinking as she watched him deflect more and more personal questions with calculated control: Perhaps even _he_ was capable of change.

But just as she was silently approving, the tone of the questions took another turn. Towards revenge.

"We have no assurance that you would not seek your brother out," a council member prodded meanly. "Abandon Konoha, your teammates, your mission, for the sole reason of exacting a toll on him."

Sasuke made a fist at his side, but said nothing.

"Your family's situation is unfortunate," another sneered, "but you would have to expressly follow orders, no matter what." Similar comments rippled down the table, each growing more and more brazen.

Sakura's snapped her eyes back up, looking at each man. These digs were meant to provoke him, rile him up and prove to the council that he was still as fiery and willful as ever. Then he'd deliver their reason for denying him. Sakura wondered if he'd take the bait.

Silence was thick over the room. They _were all_ waiting in attendance on him now, waiting to see what he would do.

"I would follow orders," Sasuke said in a controlled monotone. "As I have already."

He relaxed the hand at his side. Sakura let go of a breath she didn't realize she'd been holding.

Soft, mean, half-comments fluttered up among the shifting men and their rustling papers. Apparently they disagreed, but none were brave enough to contradict. Sakura was pleased for him. He had successfully sidestepped their taunts. This display of control might work, it might sway them—

"Itachi Uchiha—" a gravely voice cut across the others. Conversation halted. Sasuke's hand spasmed back into a fist at the wretched name.

All attention shifted to the bandaged man at opposite end of the table from Tsunade. He cleared his throat, and looked down at Sasuke with cold, half-lidded eyes.

"Itachi Uchiha is not a threat to Konoha and is not to be pursued." His words were sharp-edged and brutal, and his gaze never wavered from Sasuke. "Any move against him that is not expressly sanctioned by this council would be viewed as a personal vendetta and punishable as treason."

Sakura felt like a rug had been pulled out from under her. _Itachi wasn't a threat? What was he talking about?_ She glanced at Sasuke. In the center of the room, his stance had shifted. His feet were slightly apart, steadying him as if he'd taken a blow. Apparently he thought the same.

"Not a threat?" Sasuke said, astounded. But his anger rose with each word. "What do you mean 'not a threat'?"

"He is not a threat to _Konoha_," another man chimed in condescendingly. "We feel he is only a threat to _you_. And it is our job to protect you from—"

"He is the _biggest threat_ to Konoha," Sasuke roared.

Self-control shattered, he launched into a tirade against Itachi for his crimes and against the council for holding him back. Several members argued stridently, matching his voice, but Sasuke didn't back down. Fist raised, he was just blasting the council about caring more for his clan's techniques than the clan itself, when the man in the center of the table stood up.

"That's enough," he yelled down at Sasuke. "Konoha will deal with Itachi when the time is right. If you are to participate in _any_ missions, then you will have to abide by our decisions. Let's hear from your sensei. Sit down please. Kakashi..."

Sasuke stalked back to the bench, face pale with rage, hands shaking. Sakura was familiar with his varying bad moods, but this time he was truly furious.

Kakashi took Sasuke's place, and the room returned to its impassive order. The council asked several perfunctory questions about Sasauke. Kakashi answered them all politely, never giving more than was asked, then was dismissed.

Everything he said was in Sasuke's favor, speaking volumes to Sakura as to how much her sensei still believed in her bitter teammate.

"Sakura Haruno, please step forward."

She blinked, refocusing on the table.

The men rifled through paperwork as she moved to the center of the room. Heads together, one man whispered to another, "The other one…is away on a mission." There was some mumbled discussion, but the last of it was clear: "Yes, he's the ANBU agent."

Drawing one foot even with the other, standing in the exact spot as Sasuke, Sakura had a moment of clarity: It was true, they weren't a team. Sasuke was the prodigy, she was the target, and Sai, "the ANBU agent," was the minder. He was only on the team to keep tabs on Sasuke. It was all a sham.

The council laid everything out in a monotone, asking her the same short, pointed questions they'd asked Kakashi.

How many team missions had they completed? Was Sasuke willing to complete them? Did the client express satisfaction with his behavior? Did he represent Konoha to the best of his ability in every situation?

Sakura knew she wouldn't lie for him. She wouldn't gush about his powers, say he was the perfect teammate and that they had perfect harmony. But standing there, listening to these questions obviously designed to entrap, she decided she wouldn't tell the council what they wanted to hear.

"Sasuke Uchiha is as capable a nin as Konoha could ever hope to put forth into the world," she said finally, shutting down their last attempts for a more negative view.

The men shifted in their seats, a few rephrased their questions, pushing for a different response. She repeated her answer with forced politeness. Heads tipped together, and mumbles of disappointment echoed up and down the table.

Apparently forgotten for the moment, Sakura stood silently in the middle of the darkened room, frustration growing.

No one had addressed the fact that both she and Sai were allowed to go out on extended missions.

And Sai was the "ANBU agent." This official confirmation sparked even more anger. Her mind raced back through their interactions with him. How far did it go? Had he really been a genin with them, or was that also part of some master plan? Was it all a lie? Sakura shook her head lightly.

Sasuke said all along that they were no team. He was right. Team 7 must have been created to keep him tightly under control. She had a feeling the council only saw him as an extension of his clan. Not as a person. He was a merely a vessel for the Uchiha's prized sharingan. A weapon to be jealously guarded. Sasuke must have always known this.

Sakura huffed a breath. It was ridiculously unfair. Itachi stole his past, but the council was stealing his future. They were making the last loyal Uchiha pay for his brother's sins.

Sasuke was an exceptionally skilled shinobi, and he deserved to have his fair chance. It struck her suddenly that this was one more thing Itachi was taking away from him.

The memory of of that man still chilled her to the core. She had never been in greater fear. At academy they were taught about death in battle: It was swift and brutal. But she learned that day there were more painful, frightening things than death. Like using your life to manipulate others before you were snuffed out.

Her lips flattened into a thin, white line. Anger like she'd never felt before surged up within her. She hated Itachi. _Hated him._

He was the worst thing that ever happened to Sasuke. He was the one who directed Katsuro's life. He was the one who ordered her abduction just to pry information out about Sasuke and manipulate him from a distance. He was the one in the Akatsuki, the shadowy group who was plotting against everything they were taught to believe in.

Sakura narrowed her eyes. And these men were wrong.

With grim determination she looked down the table. Heads were still bent together, some frowning in discussion. A few were even laughing. They'd already moved on to other topics. Sakura straightened her shoulders.

She'd had a taste of Sasuke's fury. And she was in a unique position to understand his point of view. She wouldn't let it go to waste.

At the end of the table sat Tsunade, arms folded, an inscrutable gaze fixed on her apprentice. Sakura had only just glanced at her when the chattering stopped and a few began to collect their papers. The center man cleared his throat, finally returning to their purpose.

"You may sit down Haruno," he said dismissively. Sakura could feel the shift, they were anticipating wrapping it up soon.

But she didn't move. Instead she tipped her chin up, set her shoulders, and subtly tucked her fingers up into her palms. Sakura took a small steadying breath and swallowed her momentary dread. It was in direct contradiction with the council, but she knew this might be her only chance to speak.

"I have something else to say," she declared, "about Itachi."

The room went quiet. Papers froze mid-shuffle.

"Sasuke is right," she said, voice echoing into the silence. "Itachi _is_ a threat to Konoha. And I believe he is the biggest threat—"

"Oh yes. I remember," one man interjected lazily as he resumed straightening his papers. "You had an encounter with him a few years back."

Sakura's cheeks blazed. That something so traumatic could be dismissed out-of-hand! She struggled to keep her anger in check. She really was in Sasuke's position now.

"Itachi is actively working against the Leaf. And he is in the…." Her voice thinned with doubt. This _was_ highly classified information she was about to hurl at them. She glanced reflexively at Tsunade. The blonde locked eyes with her and gave a nearly imperceptible shake of her head. The subtle move was a message: They were not to know about Itachi's involvement in Akatsuki.

"H-He is involved in every underhanded thing to find out information about Sasuke," she rejoined hastily.

"And this is 'plotting against the Leaf?'" another man scoffed.

"Yes," she scrambled. "If Itachi is so desperate for information, then let Sasuke go on missions, improve his skill, demonstrate that Konoha still uses the Uchiha clan. Show the other nations that we are not so easily defeated by a single clan member."

The disgruntled councilmen frowned but they didn't stop her. Something she said must have caught their interest. Sakura continued, voice rising. "He hasn't gone after Itachi. He's done what you've asked. That should stand for something, shouldn't it?"

She panted a breath. Her words were on the verge of treachery. These men valued respect above all else, and here she was yelling at them.

In that reeling moment, some men glared at her while others gaped in mortified astonishment. But the man in the center had the presence of mind to quash the upstart teammate of the problematic Uchiha.

"Young lady, this council will not tolerate your outburst. You have no grounds to speak at this meeting, only answer what you are asked. If you have something more to say, Konoha policy requires you to submit a form—"

Sakura exploded in a manner befitting only Sasuke himself.

_"Is it Konoha policy to leave a nukenin free to roam, while the one who can stop him is held prisoner behind the gates?" _

The council dissolved into a fracas, yelling at her and at each other.

"Is she your apprentice?" someone called down to Tsunade.

"Take your seat Haruno," the man in the center fired back at her. "You have said quite enough!"

Heart racing, words dried up, she returned to her seat. She'd really done it now. It was only when her warm hands wrapped around the edge of the cold bench did she remember to breathe.

She dared a glance at Tsunade, inwardly cringing at how disappointed she must be. But the corners of that woman's full red lips were curving up, ever so slightly. Maybe she wasn't as blisteringly mad as Sakura expected.

The men were still arguing, although some had gathered their things and were striding to the door, making a great show of ignoring the occupants of the bench. Kakashi dropped down into the empty spot between the teammates with a deep sigh.

"Well…I think we can all expect D-ranks for a while," he quipped just loud enough for them to hear.

Sakura was still so discomposed that she nearly missed the cry of "dismissed, dismissed," by the center councilmen, trying to maintain the last shred of control.

Kakashi strode off immediately. Sakura, spying a door in the opposite corner, headed right for it to avoid running into any disgruntled men. She'd get an earful from Tsunade as it was. She decided she'd apologize to her first. And heading that way had the added benefit of bypassing the throng of councilmen exiting the meeting.

She was nearly to the Hokage's office when a voice echoed up the empty corridor behind her.

_"Sakura!"_

She stopped and turned slowly. She hadn't really expected to get away without a dressing down from someone. But the last person she expected to be seeking her out was Sasuke. Maybe he wanted to thank her, offer a kind word—

"What else did he say," the dark haired nin said sharply, coming towards her down the hall.

"W-What?" she said, thoroughly confused.

"You said he wanted information about me. And you said so before, that Itachi thought I was weak." His hard eyes searched her face. "He spoke to you at length, didn't he — about me. What else did he say?"

"That's what you want to know?" she said, incredulous. All this time, did he think she was lying? Or did he simply not know how to ask her again?

Sasuke glared at her unflinchingly. But his lips were slightly parted, dragging in more air. And though his skin was pale, his cheeks were lightly flushed.

Anyone else might have missed it, but she knew his facade of control had been shattered. He desperately wanted to know about Itachi. It was clear these thoughts had been consuming him.

Sakura looked away. Itachi manipulated everything, and this was yet one more way.

She bit her lip. She decided she wouldn't let him get to Sasuke through her. It may be small, but she'd thwart him.

"No," she said resolutely and turned to continue down the hall.

"No?" Sasuke choked out. He grabbed her arm like a vice clamp and didn't let go. Sakura turned back, eyes blazing.

"Tell me what he said," Sasuke demanded, voice shaking slightly. But his commanding tone pushed any sympathy out of reach for Sakura.

"And I said no," she bit out.

He tightened his grip, glaring at her. Inches apart, Sakura glared right back at him, refusing to be intimidated. She'd fight him again if that's what it came to, even here, in the hallway outside the Hokage's office. She didn't care what the punishment was.

Apparently he thought the same. His black eyes took on a menacing red tint.

Sakura dropped her gaze instinctively. Just how far would he go, she thought. Fighting was one thing, but a genjutsu she would not welcome. She had secrets now, someone to protect….

Sakura tossed her hair back over her shoulder and tipped up her face, but she didn't quite meet his eyes, just in case.

"I will not be Itachi's tool," she said, shaking her head. "He said untrue things about you, I think, perhaps, to provoke me to speak."

Sasuke released his grip slightly. "What did he say," he pressed again, but this time his voice was a little calmer.

"I will not tell you," she said again. Her voice was lower too, but firm.

Sasuke didn't let go of her, but the sharingan was receding. It was pain that drove him, not hatred, she told herself. But she still wouldn't be used as an instrument of Itachi's manipulation.

"What he said was bullshit. Lies. Everything he did was to get a response," she said. Sakura paused for a moment before adding quietly, "he told me I was useless, and that Konoha had abandoned me."

Sasuke blinked. "Why would he—"

"So that I would give up something about you," she snapped.

"But what would you know—"

"Exactly. There was nothing I knew."

Sasuke was silent.

"Did you tell him anything?" He just wanted to hear it.

Sakura gave him a long, serious look. "I told him nothing."

Steady clacking filled up the silence, drawing closer. Tsunade and Kakashi rounded the corner and instantly perceived trouble, although the heightened chakra coming from both nins was falling by the second.

"What's going on out here," Tsunade's stern voice carried up the hall.

"Teambuilding," Sakura said firmly, never taking her eyes from Sasuke. He was cowed enough to let go of her arm. Pink marks remained where he had gripped her too tight.

"Is this a joke, Kakashi?" Tsunade said, turning to the jonin in disbelief.

"She has some unique ways," he said with a nervous laugh. "But they are effective." Sasuke frowned.

"Well take your 'teambuilding' outside," Tsunade snapped, stepping around them to go into her office.

"Hai," Sakura and Sasuke said in unison.

"Kakashi," Tsunade's voice carried out through her open door. "Isn't she the one who broke the Yondaime's picture frame?"

"Uh…I'm not exactly sure which one did…." his voice thinned. He looked back helplessly at his two bickering students.

Sakura cringed and glanced reflexively at Sasuke. He shot a deep frown at her, blaming her still. She folded her arms and scowled back unapologetically. It was his fault to begin with.

The memory stoked fresh anger for both of them. Each turned on a heel and stalked out in opposite directions down the hall.

"Please close the door behind you," Tsunade's voice carried from inside the office.

Kakashi watched them go. The solidarity from the meeting was long gone.

With a sigh, he closed the door.

* * *

Sakura spotted the Hokage's scroll as soon as she rounded the corner at the hospital's front desk. To her eye, it stood out like a beacon from the rest of the bulky scrolls piled in the receiving basket. They weren't urgent documents, just official. Sakura eased the slim roll out from the center of the pack, the blue-green tassel at the visible end dancing with the movement.

Just as she suspected, it was a summons to discuss her upcoming mission. Quickly pocketing the missive, Sakura rearranged the three clipboards she had pinned under her other arm and continued down the hall to finish her shift.

By mid-afternoon, she was off duty. Sakura pushed open the double doors of the hospital and relished the feeling of sun-warmed air instead of the bracing chill. Spring was slowly breathing life back into Konoha. Though mornings were still cool, the afternoons were beginning to warm up nicely. She took the long way up to the tower, enjoying the bright green tips bursting out on all the plants. It seemed like a lot of people had the same idea, and the streets were filled with other villagers enjoying the fine afternoon.

Sakura rapped once and, receiving permission to enter, opened the Hokage's office door to be greeted by another push of warm air. Apparently even Tsunade had figured out a way to enjoy the fine weather: a window behind her desk was cracked open. The little gust of wind rippled over the papers scattered across her desk. Sakura quickly shut the door before anything could take flight.

Tsunade's desk normally had several stacks of papers. But this time, the stacks had been relegated to the floor. On the desk now stretched a wide map. Either side flopped over the edges, tipping back up in fat curls. Scattered across the map were scraps of paper, clan symbols, jotted notes and thick files. Sakura initially thought they were just strewn over the surface, but as she drew closer it became clear that the little piles corresponded to locations.

Sakura glanced at Tsunade, a question on her lips, but she stopped at the sight of the woman clearly fretting over the very same map. She had barely seen the Hokage in the last few months. Her time seemed to be filled with meetings, moreso than usual. Perhaps this map had something to do with it.

Tsunade pushed a hank of blonde hair away from her face, adjusted her blue-green jacket, and fixed her full attention on Sakura.

"I'm glad you could come on such short notice," she said. Sakura simply nodded. "There are some things I'd like to go over with you before your next mission. Step around here," she said, beckoning her behind the desk.

Tsunade flattened her hands across the broad map, pushing some of the notes to either side. The five largest nations were outlined in thick lines. But within the ring of border territories that divided the Fire country from the rest of the world, the boundaries had be erased and redrawn countless times.

Sakura could clearly see the route she would take from Konoha to the merchant village on her next mission. Beside the town, thin notes were jotted in the empty spaces. Everything was there, clan names and trading information. Even allegiances from previous wars.

But the rest of the territories were noticeably devoid of information, save for the scraps of loose data laying atop some of the largest towns. Sakura gathered the she was looking at the sum of Konoha's knowledge about the border countries.

Tsunade pointed briefly at each pile, giving a short description of what they knew. Sakura studied it furiously, trying to catch everything.

"Um, maybe I should take a few notes," she said finally, a little overwhelmed by the vast body of small details.

"No, no. There's no need," Tsunade said, a tired edge to her voice. "The information doesn't amount to much, and I don't expect you'll need it to complete this mission."

She folded her arms and studied her student for a moment. "Actually, I'm hoping you can help fill in some of these holes," she said, pointing to the smaller dots that floated on the clean expanses of map.

"Something is happening in these border countries," she began slowly. "But I just can't figure it out what's going on…."

Sakura tipped her head, frowning in silent question.

"The mission requests have dramatically increased over the year. Specifically, ones seeking an official backing at trade meetings. Which would indicate shifting alliances within these territories. Yet we have not heard of any—"

"But isn't it normal to have shifting alliances? Isn't that why I've been assigned to these missions?"

"Yes, but what is left out of these scrolls is as important as what is put in. These are proud towns, secretive clans. They wouldn't ask for help unless they really needed it. They must truly believe that they are going to be opted out of these meetings if they don't come with a show of strength."

Tsunade plunked a hand on her hip. "And these are not situations where a show of strength is required. Usually, mission requests come in response to an existing problem, like catching known thieves or guarding a shipment from ambush."

Sakura couldn't help but cringe at the memory of her own bungled mission on the trade road years before.

"But these requests are in response to _a threat_, to a problem that has not yet occurred," Tsunade continued. "If they had only requested you, then I wouldn't be nearly so suspicious. But these scrolls are coming in from all over the border territories. Which tells me it's not just politicians passing on your name."

Tsunade pointed to a fresh stack of scrolls. "Not all the missions requests are about trade alliances. But enough are that it's starting to concern me. Are these," she picked up a scroll and bounced it in her hand, "the result of rumors or is there a real threat out there?"

"But…" Sakura didn't want to be rude. "So…. Then, what do you think is the threat?"

"I'm concerned another nation is forging alliances within these territories. But only one of the largest nations would have the resources to reach so far…." Tsunade's voice thinned. She dropped the scroll back into the pile. "The spike in requests is just too high to be mere coincidence."

With a sigh, Tsunade turned her attention back to the map. "The Fire country is in a precarious position. And it always will be."

Sakura skimmed the old document as well. It wasn't an entirely accurate map, just a reflection of what was important to the big nations.

Only the thinnest lines marked off the border countries, they were so insignificant. Just scratches here and there to indicate grasslands or forests, maybe a few houses to indicate a far-flung farming community or a tightly packed hillside town. Sakura looked again: Many of the places she'd traveled through weren't even represented.

"The other nations have natural barriers," Tsunade said. She leaned over, pointing to Earth and Wind, with their vast stretches of harsh landscape, then to Lightning, with it's narrow isthmus connecting it to the mainland, and finally to the Water country islands, sailing alone in their treacherous waters.

"But the Fire country only has these border countries separating us from three of the other four nations." She traced her finger along the U-shaped strip of land that ringed their country. Sakura counted up six — no, seven! — distinct territories on the old map.

"The large nations use these small countries for trade, but more importantly, these lands serve as a barrier between our borders," Tsunade said. "They cloak our missions and act as a buffer zone. In the past, this was where we waged our wars…. Trade is just a benefit."

Tsunade looked sideways at Sakura. Her whiskey brown eyes held un unusual chill. "We can't afford for these territories to form alliances that might one day be used against us."

Sakura understood, she really did. But even as she agreed with the Hokage, she did have a fleeting sympathy for those areas. The residents of those far-flung communities just had the bad luck of living in a place with no hope of protection. And really, no hope of ever becoming a country in their own standing. No matter how noble Konoha's principles may be, it was in their country's best interest to keep those territories on their knees.

But now she realized why the trade alliances were so tremendously important to the citizens of these lands. More than just a quick job for a kunoichi, this was their only hope of protection. A larger nation would not wage war from a town that brought a profit. A simple alliance, a promise of wealth, could ultimately be the difference between life and death.

But any other opinions were swept aside by Tsunade's serious tone. "So you can see why it's so important to find out what's going on out there. Instead of just rampant speculation and guesswork," she said, waving a hand in frustration at the piles of paper pushed to the far edges of the map.

"Because my hunch _may_ be wrong. I just don't have enough information to go on, and I don't have any other shinobi to spare on such an assignment. Even to confirm that this is indeed what's happening." Tsunade rubbed a hand across her forehead. "So in the end it looks like I'll have to—"

"I'm so sorry," Sakura burst out suddenly. Tsunade looked up in surprise to find her apprentice with her head bowed a little, her face tight with some unknown worry. "Maybe Sasuke would have been available if I hadn't…."

Scoffing loudly at the thought, Tsunade waved a hand to stop her.

"Sasuke's problems are none of your doing. And you standing up for him in front of the high council was admirable," she said, pausing to smile. Sakura was pleasantly surprised. "Hopefully, one day, he'll appreciate it too."

Sakura smiled wryly. "You mean, me yelling at the council on his behalf?"

"No," Tsunade said, laughing. "Reminding them that Sasuke is a shinobi."

She paused for a moment. "Things are complicated for him. And they probably always will be. But that's not all his fault…. I'm sure you can tell now that there are different opinions about Sasuke's role in the village."

Sakura nodded.

"But the complications run much deeper than you realize," she added quietly.

Tsunade turned and looked out the broad windows behind her desk, eyes fixed on no point in particular.

She pondered sharing more, telling the young kunoichi about the different factions in the village. How the tug-of-war over Sasuke ran deeper than she could ever know. And that Sakura's comments struck right at the heart of the matter.

Even with all his bandages, Danzo was still as cunning as ever. He would like to keep Sasuke locked away, the Uchiha's technique at his ready disposal, and he had the council's backing. But she felt as Sakura did: the boy was proving to be as fine a shinobi as Konoha could ever hope for. And his clan would certainly have been proud of him. He was turning out to be a prodigy. Sakura wasn't too far from the truth either in her spirited comments. Maybe not yet, but one day he truly would be the only one who could stop Itachi.

However Tsunade knew the discord between her and Danzo ran deeper still. This was more than just a battle over a bloodline. They had been set on different paths over 16 years ago, though neither could have known it at the time.

Tsunade rubbed a hand over her eyes.

What could she say? Did she have the heart to reveal Konoha's deepest, darkest secret? Tell her that yes, monsters were real? They come in the night, burning and killing like in your worst nightmare. And yet Konoha had miraculously survived by channeling the power into a single boy, chosen to protect the village.

That was a fairytale compared to the truth.

In the frantic moments after the attack, the Yondaime and his wife must have known that sealing the demon in their child was the only hope for the village. Tsunade understood their reasoning: As the boy grew, his strength would naturally fuse with the demon's chakra, making him one of the most powerful shinobis in the world. It was a gift equal to the price paid by his parent's love.

In the aftermath, stories surrounding the attack were widely dismissed. The villagers, along with the largely civilian council, were happy to let the nightmare fade away. In the clearing light of the days and weeks after the attack, most decided it was simply some natural catastrophe, magnified by the confusion and embroidered upon with colorful details. They all pulled together, swept away the reminders and returned life to normal. Only lingering superstitions remained.

The shinobi who fought and watched so many die had a broader understanding: It wasn't a nightmare, it was a demon. But they also accepted it's defeat without questioning. Somehow the powerful Yondaime and his wife had stopped the kyuubi, giving their lives for the village they loved.

But only a precious few knew the real sacrifice. The demon thought to be banished was actually still in housed in the village, sealed in the fragile body of an infant. A baby, born the night of the attack and orphaned in the first hour of his life.

Danzo stridently argued that the jinchuriki child be brought up in the ranks of ANBU, destined to be a bright star in Konoha's shadowy, elite military force. But the Sandaime, still reeling from the loss of his wife in the attack, decreed the boy should have a normal life, as his parents would have wished.

And that single act changed everything.

Sometimes she wondered if it would have been better if Danzo had been allowed to have him. Then perhaps things would have been different for both those boys….

Because by the time Tsunade returned to the village, Konoha's jinchuriki was long gone.

Only a cold trail of clues pointed to who had taken him — Itachi Uchiha, she thought, narrowing her eyes — but he was as elusive as he was brutal. He had planned everything, down to the last detail. Years later, on another devastating night, Itachi inflicted damage to Konoha that was simply incalculable: He had wiped away the most powerful clan and stolen the village's best hope of protection.

And, from everything she could find out, Konoha was partially to blame for it.

Now Danzo saw Sasuke's life as his chance to right so many wrongs. He would not let _this_ child slip through his fingers. And he had an ulterior motive that most of the council would never know about. Keeping Sasuke close to the village, locked away like a prisoner as Sakura so aptly put it, turned the boy into Konoha's mock jinchuriki.

What future plans he had for the last Uchiha was anyone's guess. She had some idea that Danzo would like to procure another jinchuriki, but he never again mentioned the one they lost. Danzo seemed to take the theft of the child as a personal affront from Itachi, another one of ANBU's bright stars before he betrayed them all.

Although missions for Sasuke were bound to have dangers with Itachi still on the loose, Tsunade sometimes thought it might be just as dangerous for him within Konoha's walls while Danzo was continuously scheming.

And so the memory of the Yondaime's son was left to simply fade away. Danzo certainly hoped it would. With the real jinchuriki out of the way and the mock jinchuriki under his thumb, Danzo's ambitions could move forward unimpeded.

But he underestimated the devotion of the shinobi to their fallen hokage. The small band who knew the truth vowed never to give the boy up. They searched for him still.

Tsunade breathed in deeply. She had considered sharing the horrible truth with her apprentice on a few occasions. She trusted Sakura implicitly, and there was a slim chance she might hear some news of the lost boy. But as she glanced over, remembering Sakura's passionate speech in front of the council, she decided not to. The kunoichi still believed that Konoha wouldn't fail her.

Tsunade looked back out across the skyline, never quite registering the happy patchwork of colorful roofs and greening trees.

No, she knew what it was like to live without hope. And learning that the strength your village relied on was just a mirage was nearly too much for any shinobi to bear. Especially while the other nations still had their very real, very powerful jinchurikis.

She just couldn't burden her with that knowledge. Yet.

Tsunade flicked her gaze back to Sakura. There was, however, another problem on the horizon she could illuminate.

"In the council meeting, you were about to mention Itachi…and the Akatsuki," she began.

"Oh yes," said Sakura, remembering Tsunade's subtle shake of her head.

"There are many factions in our village, civilian and shinobi, and differing points of view within those factions," she continued, turning back to her desk. "And we can't always be assured of everyone's vision. These different factions could pull us in separate ways. So sometimes discretion can save us a lot of trouble."

Sakura nodded, only partially understanding.

"Linking Itachi to the Akatsuki might have some unwanted consequences. The council is largely civilian, save for Danzo and myself. If they knew of another group, a criminal organization of nins, not linked to any country, they would be in an uproar. These are politicians, not shinobi. And I'm sure you know now that—

"Wait — if Danzo knew about Itachi and the Akatsuki, then why did he tell Sasuke he wasn't a threat? Was it a lie?"

Tsunade smirked. "Danzo and I are not of the same opinion as to Sasuke's role in the village. Danzo would rather him stay within the walls, regardless of what kind of threat is out there. And he will do or say anything to make that happen." She shook her head. "It is one of many points on which we disagree."

Tsunade leaned against the desk. "But Kakashi and I are very glad you stood up for Sasuke at the meeting. Teamwork, more than any other skill, can sometimes mean the difference between life and death on the battlefield. Your support of your teammate is the mark of a fine shinobi." Tsunade smiled briefly at her apprentice. Sakura's reflected smile, the hopeful eager expression still intact, reassured her she'd made the right decision.

Tsunade turned and spread her hands out across the desk, flattening the withered old map again.

"Back to the problem at hand," she declared. "I certainly couldn't have foreseen this when you started accepting these missions, but you are in a pivotal place to bring back information to Konoha."

Sakura nodded curtly, eyes focused on the map.

"It's nothing dangerous, and really nothing out of the scope of the mission assignment. But it is much more involved than anything you've done yet." Tsunade peered at her. "I want you to collect every scrap of data you can about who is there, who they are with and what they are expecting to gain from this trade meeting."

Tsunade pointed to the red dot of a town Sakura was assigned to. It was in the center of a spiderweb of trade roads.

"My hunch," she continued, dragging her index finger along the routes the flowed deep into the hearts of the other three land-bound nations, "is someone from one of these large nations is working through the smaller towns for some unknown end. We may not know their final goal, but we can try to determine who the players are with this meeting. And if we can uncover a pattern, then we can find out what's happening."

Sakura eyes shined with understanding, alert as a seasoned shinobi twice her age.

Splaying a hand, Tsunade tapped out points rapid-fire on her fingers. "Watch for politicians with a large guard, and the ones with money to spend. Listen for name-dropping — some politicians like to brag about where they're getting their money from, especially at a meeting like this. Keep an eye out for the ones who look like they have something to hide. They may or they may not. And watch the doors: Always make note of who's arriving together and who's leaving together. Sometimes that can give you the clearest picture of allegiances."

Tsunade continued, going through every scenario Sakura might encounter. And Sakura took it all in, nodding after every point.

Finally the Hokage produced the mission request scroll from the clan who hired her. Red tassels swung at either end. This scroll functioned, for her, like an invitation to the trade meeting. Without it, she might not be admitted.

"Three weeks from the festival, you will deliver another scroll to the clan from Konoha, offering official protection should they need it. It is a formality, nothing that would draw the eye of the other nations. But it will provide us an in-road to more meetings without having to wait for a request."

A knock sounded at the door, but Tsunade ignored it. "If one of the nations—"

The knocking resumed. Tsunade frowned.

Dropping her voice, she pushed the scroll into Sakura's hands and talked over the noise. "If one of the nations is forging alliances in the border countries, then we will not miss an opportunity to forge one as well!"

The knocking began again.

"What is it?" Tsunade barked at the door.

Sliding it back, Shizune entered, smiling broadly, completely unflustered by the Hokage's brusque tone. She was balancing more papers, scrolls and, somehow, a tray of tea. The anger of the instant before was forgot, and Tsunade moved quickly to assist her.

Sakura looked down at the map again. Now she understood the depth of Tsunade's concerns when she began these cross-border missions. Though she knew all about the border countries from her academy lessons, now she saw them in a different light. The Fire country _was_ in a precarious position. If something was going on out there, it was in their best interests to check it out, and stop it before it spread out of control.

A large gray smudge on the old map snagged Sakura's attention. It completely covered a forgotten territory where the Fire, Earth and Wind nations converged. Earlier, she had dismissed it as just a stain on the paper. But looking again, she wasn't so sure.

Leaning closer, Sakura could see the murky blotch was held in by the borders of the three nations, never crossing them. It just pooled there, gray and dissolving, like a thick fog or a vast pocket of slurry. Perhaps it was a geologic feature?

"What's that," she blurted, pointing to the rough-edged spot.

Tsunade cut her eyes over the brim of her tea cup. "Nothing there but rain," she muttered.

She took a quick sip, then answered distractedly. "That country's been at war with itself for years. Just one less border to patrol. They're no threat to us." Her attention had already moved on to the newly arrived documents.

Sakura shrugged. With a last glance at the map and it's one gray blemish, she pocketed her scroll and left the Hokage to the rest of her day's work.

* * *

The muddy pothole was already overflowing when the cold downpour began again. Fat rain drops sloshed out more water, spilling it down into the narrow channels of the cobblestone lane.

Run-off fell in thick streams from the roof, spattering up onto the old porch. Flecks of water hit his shoes, but Katsuro didn't care. He was glad to be out of the rain, if only for a little while.

Leaning beside the splintering door frame, Katsuro relaxed his shoulders and waited. He pulled the dark cloak tighter around his neck, letting the shadow of the hood do all the work. No henge this time. In the grey rain, it was nearly impossible to make out his face.

A few townspeople hurried down the lane, trying to avoid the deep, water-filled holes. A lanky teen happened to look up and see the black-clad figure skulking at the doorway. He slowed, even in spite of the rain, gaping up at Katsuro. The older man he was with paused as well, catching what was distracting him. Father and son, Katsuro instantly thought. The older man's face registered surprise, then alarm. He quickly cut his eyes away and grabbed the kid's shoulder, hauling him along. The man leaned close to the boy, rattling his arm, saying something and nodding significantly in Katsuro's direction. Whatever he said, it worked.

The kid's eyes widened, then he looked away, obeying his father. Both dashed up the lane, disregarding their path and sinking their feet into the holes. Water splashed wide, soaking the bottom of their clothes.

Katsuro's shoulders jerked with a mirthless laugh. He knew getting wet was the least of their concerns now.

His gaze dropped back to the rain-slicked boards. Sometimes it felt like he was living two lives.

Katsuro knew what people saw when they looked at him: He was someone to avoid. At one time that thought gave him a great deal of comfort. There was safety in being the thing that others feared. Yet now, having experienced the opposite, having townspeople look at him with a friendly eye, he found that it was much harder to slip back into his previous life.

But in the end, he supposed both lives were illusions. Whether with Sakura or with Itachi, he was doomed to be in disguise, always hiding something from someone.

Voices carried through the doorway. The target was not best pleased. Katsuro's back stiffened.

"It will take more than that," one voice said with haughty indignance. But Katsuro's local contact could only sputter excuses. The man was supposed to broker the deal, now he was making a mess of it. It was why Katsuro had to come in the first place.

"Let me speak to your master. He is with you, is he not?" the voice said firmly. Boards creaked. Katsuro heard the local man's attempt to stop him. But the target was used to getting his way.

The door slid open firmly, spilling out a rectangle of orange light.

Never raising his head, Katsuro watched two clean white shoes step out onto the muddy boards. They turned away for a moment, then, pivoted completely in his direction.

"You are his master?" But the man didn't wait for an answer. "Whatever you are after, you'll need more than this." Katsuro heard the rustle of a scroll. "There are many more people involved than just me."

Still propped against the wall, Katsuro never stirred.

The man was mistaken. Katsuro was only the messenger. Or rather, the enforcer. His assignment here was simply to make sure the local contact delivered the message, and that the target would comply.

Katsuro had gathered from Itachi that there was some slight resistance in this quarter. And that it was important this deal went off without a hitch. Important to who, important to what he was never told. Just that it was important. And so Katsuro was sent. He was to back up whatever was delivered in the scroll with his own particular brand of persuasion.

The scruffy shoes of Katsuro's contact were the next set out the door. Katsuro tipped his face up, just enough to see them without being seen. The contact was wringing his hands. Katsuro nearly rolled his eyes, but seeing the man's homemade clothes betrayed his real occupation. He was probably just a poor farmhand looking for some extra money. It took the sting out of his anger.

"Was the— Was the delivery not sufficient sir?" the man said placatingly.

But Katsuro's target, much more finely dressed than anyone he'd seen yet in this hole, sniffed his disapproval. "Money will only get you so far."

Katsuro narrowed his eyes. Their contact may not have been able to see this deal through, but the target — clearly someone who made his profit off the sweat of others — knew what game he was playing.

"This might be acceptable with some of your other 'clients,'" he sneered, "but you cannot think that I would be swayed for so little—"

"You have already received a gift?" Katsuro said. He pushed off the wall and turned to face him. The situation was clear now.

"Your man did drop off a token, but—"

Katsuro raised his face, keeping top half was still shrouded in darkness. "Then you will do whatever has been directed of you in that scroll."

"Well," he huffed, "it will take more than to secure _our_ trade exclusively. If you think you can bribe us into selling to those—"

"You have two choices before you," Katsuro cut him off, voice gravelly with anger. "You can either follow the orders in that scroll, and make a profit…."

He tipped his face up just a little more.

"Or you can see all your meagre interests wiped away like mud from my shoe."

From the depths of the hood, Katsuro's eyes swirled red.

Like twisting a valve at his midsection, Katsuro let the malevolent chakra seep out. Heat spiraled from his stomach, licking up toward his chest, until he felt the familiar dull tug behind his navel. He needed enough…just enough….

Frozen an arms length from Katsuro, the man's face was as white as his silk robes. His eyes were painfully wide. Over his shoulder, Katsuro's contact, the erstwhile farmhand, was also loosing color. Idiot, Katsuro thought. But it did make things easier.

Fear would be the opening point of _this_ genjutsu.

Katsuro breathed out through his nose, pushed back against the heat in his gut, and concentrated on the men in front of him. The curtain of water rolling off the porch roof slowed like liquid glass. Droplets hung in the air around them, suspended. Even the small puffs of surprised breath still clung to their lips. But only Katsuro noticed it.

Then, just as suddenly as it had stopped, the rain came crashing to the ground.

To all outward appearances, it looked as if the two men were frozen with surprise upon discovering the identity of the hooded man. In the next instant, both men smiled, as if so pleased to see this old friend. They patted each other's backs, then returned through the door, each looking like they'd just been delivered fantastic news.

The cloaked man stepped back and dropped his face, letting the hood fall forward. In a swift movement, he was off the porch and back out into the downpour. Rain drumming loudly on his cloak, kicking up a fine mist around him, the man crossed the cobblestones and disappeared.

"Everything successful?" Itachi questioned without looking up.

Soaked, muddy and tired, Katsuro stood just inside the door of Itachi's tent. He flung back the hood, spraying water in a ring around him.

"Hai," he said flatly. "Had to use a genjutsu on them both. The target will comply with whatever is asked. The contact was useless, so I altered his memory of our involvement. If anything else is necessary there, I'll handle it."

Itachi looked up, an eyebrow hitched in unasked question.

"I felt he was too dangerous to leave with information."

"Excellent," Itachi said, clearly pleased that Katsuro's self-protective instincts were still intact. "Any extra involvement there shouldn't be necessary. What they have to offer isn't the primary interest, merely a link to larger targets. But having control of their trade will ease access to those towns around them."

Katsuro waited while Itachi wrote a few more lines.

"And what did you promise them?"

"No promise, just what you said. That they would be enriched, only profits, nothing to fear."

"And he responded well to that?"

Katsuro shrugged, wiping the wet tips of hair off his forehead. "I also told him if he followed his instructions, in the end everyone would benefit. Then _he_ would be their hero. That did the trick."

Itachi snorted lightly at the last bit. "Ah, money _and_ adulation." He rolled up the scroll and set it to the side. "It is so easy, isn't it. Just find what someone wants most, and there you have them," he said, opening his hand. He fixed a steady gaze on Katsuro.

The boy before him had changed. Something was different since he'd left him last summer. There was a seriousness, a depth in his expression that had not been there before.

Itachi had never spoken to him about the constant missions during his absence. After all, he had approved of using the boy to do some of the grunt work, but only so long as it suited his purposes as well. It kept him out of camp – which generally kept him out of trouble — and it shielded him from prying eyes while Itachi was gone. Besides Katsuro was the only one he trusted to get the job done, and done right, when these irritating missions went awry.

He had assumed that Katsuro was simply trying to be as elusive as possible. But now, reflecting on the sum of his behavior over the past few months, Itachi wondered if there wasn't more to the story.

"So, Itachi drew out, "you successfully hid our involvement with them." Katsuro nodded.

"Good. There was a report of some shinobi stopping a few towns over. Did you cross paths with anyone?"

"No," he said emphatically, shaking his head.

"Good," Itachi said, unrolling a slim grey scroll. "You are taking every precaution, are you not?"

"Hai."

Itachi was silent for a moment, reading the missive. With a grunt of distaste he set the scroll aside.

"I came upon some Konoha nins recently," Itachi said, eyes drifting back up. "A three-man cell, traveling north. I took to the trees, and they never knew I was there. So be careful. They are out there, traveling where we least expect them."

Katsuro nodded once.

"And for you, being recognized would be a fatal mistake. I would not be able to save you from them again."

Satisfied with Katsuro's respectful response — the boy was still the student, and he was still the master — Itachi continued, sowing the seeds of rivalry that would drive him on.

"Konoha nins are exceedingly capable. I would not underestimate them. Yet your biggest threat will come from my younger brother. I understand he has grown quite powerful. But true to form, the council won't let him out of their sight," Itachi said, the arrogant edge rising in his voice. He still harbored some pride at being able to predict the movements of a village he left so long ago. "At any rate, Sasuke is the hurdle you have to overcome. I know they are grooming him to come after you, and right now, I don't know if you are strong enough to take him."

Itachi watched Katsuro for a moment. He was completely passive, but Itachi knew the boy would never shy from a fight. And just setting Sasuke as his challenge had to be burning him up. But whatever Katsuro's thoughts were on that topic, he kept them tamped down. His self-control had matured some in the past year as well. Itachi was pleased. Things were working out better than he had planned.

Though Katsuro been in the cold rain for hours, the cloak felt suddenly stifling. He hated Sasuke, that much was true. But he had his own reasons now. Itachi's goading was growing irritating. Only his continued questioning kept Katsuro from losing his temper. He had to be sure he covered all his tracks.

"As you were traveling last summer, did you make sure you were always in disguise?"

Katsuro stripped out all emotion. "Yes," he lied.

"And never let your appearance show?"

"No," another lie.

"Never let your age be revealed?"

"No," and another one.

"Good," Itachi said, satisfied. "Outside of your wind nature, those are the only other things that are identifiable. And the wind element can only be identified if you use it. But you have no reason to use it."

Something Sakura mentioned struck in his mind. "Your wind thing," she had called it. Katsuro's gut clenched — _Had he let something slip? But...how?_ — and a frown flickered over his face.

Itachi didn't miss it. "Something troubling you?"

Katsuro immediately wiped his face and mind clean. "No," he lied yet again, working quickly to cover his misstep. "Is the wind element so strong that a Konoha nin would recognize it right away?"

"No, perhaps not," Itachi said. "It is a weak element and not worth the trouble of learning. But wind users are from Konoha, and it is one more link in the chain that binds you to that village."

Katsuro thought for the first time that Itachi might be lying too. His opinion about the wind element was not new information. But it occurred to him now that Itachi was not a wind element user, therefore he would have very little knowledge about it. Even if he did think it was worth learning, there was no way he could teach him. Perhaps his strong opinion was in part to cover that weakness.

Itachi silently surveyed the boy. "We have both had interesting summers. I would wager you have seen a great many things."

To Itachi's surprise, Katsuro merely shrugged, cutting his eyes away. As if it were a summer like any other. Not that it was the first time he'd been given such a broad measure of freedom.

"I have stayed on the move, if that's what you mean," Katsuro said indifferently. "And I have delivered everything that has come down, often tying up the loose ends myself." He hoped it was enough to shift the focus off of him.

Mercifully, it worked.

Itachi sat forward, picking up the slim, grey scroll he'd been reading earlier "Yes, you have had your share of grunt work, haven't you," he said with a sigh. "As have I."

He handed it to Katsuro. "Well, there's more to come."

The scroll was dull and grey, like the dingy waterlogged town he just came from. There were no markings, but there didn't need to be any. Katsuro knew exactly where the document was from — he had been following commands passed down on these all summer long. It was from the Rain village.

"I have fulfilled my obligations to the Akatsuki for the time being," Itachi said. "So you will not need to stay away from camp for as long as you have been." Katsuro pocketed the scroll and was dismissed.

Watching the swinging tent flap, Itachi was pleased that Katsuro's self-protective instincts were still so strong. The taste of freedom did not seem to have made much of an impact on him. The boy knew how many enemies he had out there, and that Itachi helped keep him "safe." And Katsuro still seemed content as the dutiful shinobi, just as Itachi had promised him all those years ago.

He laughed quietly to himself. It was almost too easy: Find out what someone wanted most, and there you had them. Katsuro was his best proof of that tactic. He didn't even have to use a genjutsu. A simple promise to train the child to be a shinobi, and the rest had been effortless. After all his carefully laid plans, capturing a jinchuriki turned out to be one of easiest things he'd ever done. Pushing the recollections from his mind, Itachi reached for another scroll.

* * *

The winter months dragged by. Itachi sent him on mission after mission. Katsuro followed everything he said. But it was not like it had been before. He had been interested in the missions, always curious and anxious to get going. But now he was just going through the motions, waiting for spring. Counting down the days. He didn't want to hope he would see her, but he couldn't think about anything else.

Some days he was sure he'd be able to meet her in the merchant village. Other days the weight of worry was heavy on him. So many things could go wrong. So he fulfilled his obligations and days slipped by.

He had no friends in the group, and no one he trusted. So it was much harder this time, knowing it wasn't just a few days until he'd see her again. He'd never realized how lonely it was. But no one seemed to notice his change of attitude.

It was ironic, he thought while sharpening his weapons late one afternoon. He had lived in this loneliness most of his life. At the orphanage, no one ever paid him any attention. They hated him, and most days were spent as if he didn't exist. And then at the end…well, by then he hated them just as much.

Katsuro scowled deeply at the memory, applying a particularly rough stroke to the edge of a kunai. His finger slipped off the end of the whetstone. The stone scraped across the face of the blade, and a red streak of blood blossomed across the pad of his finger. While he watched, the skin at the edge of the slice was already mending itself. By the time he smeared off the blood on the side of his pants, the nick was almost completely healed.

He had never forgiven Konoha. He still hated that place just as much as on the day Itachi found him. But somehow Sakura had smoothed over those wounds that had never quite healed.

He pitched the last scraped kunai onto the pile, leaned back and admired his handiwork. Thinking about their time together made everything more bearable. The tedious work, the awful situations. Just knowing she was there, connected to him, even in _that_ village, it was like a lifeline. No matter how bad things got, he wasn't alone anymore. How could it be that the worst things and the one best thing in his life had come from the same place?

He breathed deeply, closed his eyes and let the memory of her wash over him. The sunny days, the pranks, the way her hair swung out past her cheek when she looked sideways at him. The images, conjured up out of the darkness, sent a small smile creeping up his face—

"Well you certainly look pleased about something," Itachi's voice punctured the memories.

Katsuro opened his eyes, the smile vanished. It took every bit of control to stay seated, and not scramble up to standing in embarrassed self-defense. But he didn't want to give away any more than he already had.

Itachi continued. "I've wondered what's been distracting you as of late. Care to enlighten me?"

Katsuro shrugged as dismissively as he could and looked away, as if the mere notion was ridiculous. But he eluded the question with one of his own. "Was there something you needed?"

Itachi studied him a moment longer before coming to his real purpose. "I have another mission for you…."

Katsuro left the kunai where they lay and followed Itachi back to the tent, relieved to have escaped any interrogation. He had to be more careful. Itachi was naturally suspicious. But Katsuro had secrets now, even from the one who knew everything about him….

* * *

The tent flap lifted and fell closed behind the courier. A warm spring breeze skittered through, but was cut off by the fall of the thick canvas. It was an unwanted disturbance in the controlled air of the tent.

Pushing the newly arrived documents to the side, Itachi produced what looked to be a blank, unused scroll. Circling his hand around it, the cylinder glowed orange under his fingers for a moment before returning to pale yellow. He slid his thumb to the side. Where it was parchment before, now a red wax seal appeared. He flipped back the seal and unrolled the scroll, flattening it on the desk in front of him.

A colorless, tightly marked map was burned into the paper. It held little decoration, and no written notes, but it was extremely detailed down to the individual communities. Though there was no key, Itachi knew what every thin dot and slash referred to.

He scanned down it, lining up where Katsuro had been this summer, and where he was going. He could guess the next targets to come down.

Itachi registered a presence outside the door. "Enter," he called without looking up.

It was one of the captains who helped keep things in order in his absence. Though initially Itachi didn't care for the system of relying on nukenins to carry out the ground affairs, it had proved useful. And after several years, the system and the men had become invaluable tools to reaching their goals.

Itachi sat back from the map and listened to the man's report: Everything was running smoothly. The group had been culled down, and the most promising ones were receiving extra shinobi training. Not enough to make them stand out, but enough that they can take down a village trained shinobi. This smaller group was proving far more useful than the a camp full of rogues. And the captain hoped to pick up a few more from one of the larger towns, streetwise and savvy, to round out another group.

Itachi listened to the full report and conferred on their plans for this summer when they broke camp permanently.

Itachi had covered everything, when another thought occurred to him: "And this past year," he said, peering quietly over his clasped hands, "how did Katsuro get on with the new recruits? Any troubles?"

"None, actually. Hardly ever saw him. He was only in camp long enough to pick up his assignments, then he was gone again. Sometimes he'd double up and be gone for weeks at a time."

Itachi frowned. The boy was supposed to keep a low profile, but that was extreme. Even for Katsuro.

Someone called for the captain from beyond the door. Itachi nodded and the man left.

Itachi leaned back and reflected on his conversations with Katsuro. Other than a general seriousness to his attitude, there was nothing amiss. Nothing to give him away. There had been a little ripple of emotion about the wind element, but that may have been nothing.

Sitting forward, Itachi scanned back over the map, reading the subtle marks that only he knew the meaning of. He ran a finger from town to town, following the mark of a bent line as it appeared next to the spread out communities. Itachi knew exactly where Katsuro had been. He had been briefed on all his activities, as he required in return for his loyalty to the Akatsuki.

But none of these missions should have taken so long. He frowned — something was amiss.

There was no great change in him, so Itachi wasn't concerned. But he wasn't interested in Katsuro having that level of freedom. It was too dangerous. But Katsuro didn't seem affected by it. Indeed, for someone who spent apparently the greater part of the summer and fall traipsing around the countryside, he was acting like nothing happened at all. And for a boy who has grown up in a camp, among thugs and thieves, that part, at least, didn't ring quite true. He should have had some impressions at least, bad or good.

So what he left out spoke volumes.

Itachi would have completely expected the boy to be pushing for more missions, more of the freedom. Not back to business as usual. He knew him enough by now. If he wanted something, he was tenacious enough to hang on until he got it. Either he didn't care about returning to his previous freedom, he truly didn't want to because of some bad experience, or most troubling, he was concealing something. No one stays out for that long with nothing to show for it but a shrug of his shoulders.

Itachi narrowed his eyes. And to double up on assignments….If that was the case, then where had Katsuro gone in the time between missions? _What was he doing out there?_

Itachi mentally went through the the boy's comings and goings since he'd returned. But there was nothing out of the ordinary. In fact, he hadn't even requested another mission. He just accepted whatever came down to him. And it wasn't so much of a lack of enthusiasm, but a preoccupation. Like his attention was diverted elsewhere.

The captain's chakra registered at the door again. Itachi shelved the thoughts of Katsuro for the moment, and focused on the tasks ahead. The captain had a great deal to cover about new recruits and plans for this summer.

"We had some trouble along this trade route last summer." The captain pointed toward the thin line, without touching the map. "Seems several towns have banded together, brought in some outside help. We didn't even approach them."

"Good." Itachi studied the map closely, black eyes moving fast along the jagged borders, reviewing the private information that was encoded there. "There are only a few that are of interest. Perhaps we will move on these this summer." He lightly tapped a few dots spread far and wide through the territories between the large nations. "Then we can pull the rest into line with minimal effort—"

Suddenly, Itachi looked to the door. "Enter."

Katsuro pulled the flap back. "You had a delivery for me?"

Itachi sat back, a silent cue for the young man to approach. The captain moved to leave, but Itachi stopped him with a quick wave of his hand. Apparently this wouldn't take long.

From underneath a pile of scrolls Itachi pulled out a large leather pouch. It's fat bottom and tell-tale metallic clink left no doubt as to it's contents.

"The clan head is expecting this," Itachi said quietly, sliding it over, never breaking eye contact. "Your contact is his younger brother. Make sure the delivery finds it's way into the right hands."

Katsuro slipped the sack of coins into his pocket and nodded at the advice. Family members were known for betrayal.

Itachi rested his hand on the mission scroll instead of passing it over. "When are you leaving," he asked casually.

Katsuro jerked one shoulder in apathy. "If the weather turns, I might leave a few days ahead of time." But his eyes never quite met his master's.

This time Itachi was watching for his studied carelessness. Katsuro shrugged, then evaded eye contact — it was the same as before. He'd found a pattern.

Itachi smiled toward the captain, as if sharing an inside joke. But when he spoke, it was aimed only at Katsuro.

"Since you seem to enjoy dashing around the countryside," Itachi said, smile turning cruel, — Katsuro's breath caught. He glanced involuntarily at Itachi. Just a shift of his eyes, but it was enough. Both knew Katsuro had never told him of his wanderings. Itachi had his confirmation: Katsuro _was_ hiding something. He immediately came up with a new plan. — "I need you to intercept a scroll for me," he finished.

Katsuro recovered quickly, submerging his emotions. "Certainly," he said with cool politeness.

But instead of instructing him where to go, Itachi changed things up even more. "You seem to have a steady grasp on many of these areas, tell me where you'd like to meet him."

Katsuro blinked once — the only sign he'd registered the change in protocol — then quickly stepped forward to study the map, closing off Itachi's view of his face.

Fully aware of the evasive tactic, Itachi simply studied his bowed head. To his credit, Katsuro's careless facade was nearly impeccable. Nearly. But then, the Uchiha always had been able to read him like a book.

Yet now Itachi found the careful concealing of emotions — the lesson he had drilled into the boy's head to never, ever leave an opening — presented an interesting personal challenge. The master was the one being forced to look for the weak spot.

Katsuro made a show of looking to the far west of the map, where both knew his mission would take him. Then he swung his gaze back to the center.

"Here," he said pointing to the large merchant village at the confluence of many trade roads. "There's a festival coming up, I'll meet him on the northern road the night after it ends."

Itachi nodded and handed him the scroll. Katsuro turned to go. It looked like business as usual, but both knew it was anything but.

"One last thing," Itachi called to Katsuro as he reached the door. "There is a tracker from Rain in main camp. Please send him in."

With the ghost of a frown, Katsuro nodded once, then left.

###

Stepping out of the tent was like coming up for air. Katsuro breathed deeply.

He knew Itachi was suspicious — the missions, the odd requests, the double-edged statements. But this brush set him even more on edge.

He walked slowly back to main camp, giving him time to think before he reached the fire circle.

Just when he'd resigned himself to not seeing Sakura, after so many months of hoping, a shaft of light fell on his plans. Itachi let him choose the location. That strange, untethered feeling returned. He could make it, he could meet her.

But the request for a tracker overshadowed his blossoming happiness. Itachi may have needed the man for an entirely different reason, but Katsuro couldn't help but feel there was a message in there for him: You're being watched.

Katsuro relaxed his hands, trailing his fingers over the new green leaves as he walked. Well, he'd take what he got, now that he knew he could get to her. He'd just have to be extremely careful. With Itachi back in camp, it was just too dangerous. He may not get another chance like this one.

The mission scroll had him going pretty far to the west, delivering a payment, then procuring a scroll with information to return to the camp. He didn't know what it was about, and didn't care, either. He just wanted to get it over with. Snapping a dead twig, he turned up the path.

There was an inescapable prickling feeling that Itachi was trying to discover what he was doing. But Katsuro's choice should outsmart any plans. He'd wrap up his first assignment early, then head straight to the festival. The mission was his alibi. No one would think to look for him in the bustling merchant town, days before he was expected.

He smiled inwardly at how well the hasty plan had worked out: He'd even padded in enough time to go back with Sakura _and_ see the little girl again. Sighing softly to himself, he turned the last curve before the camp. He'd have to make this trip count.

The sandy expanse of main camp opened up in front of him. Squatting next to the fire circle was a lean, hatchet-faced man. He was hunched over, eating quickly and methodically watching everyone around him. Katsuro watched his eyes dart, marking the comings and goings through the open area, even as his movements remained perfectly controlled.

Katsuro lowered his head. This guy gave him the creeps. He'd seen him pass through the camp before and recognized him right off. He wasn't a thug, he was another shinobi. But this one was a mercenary. Everyone was an enemy to him.

Katsuro recognized the cold calculation in his expression, understood it even. This was the bitter result of years of self protection. But he was surprised to find that he no longer found it something to admire or aspire to. Watching the man wolf down his food, leery of leaving himself vulnerable for too long, Katsuro was glad he wasn't like that. He may not be able to trust anyone, but now he knew what it meant to trust. He'd established that bond, and it could never be taken away.

Aware of someone approaching him, the man jettisoned the bowl and stood swiftly. Hands on his hips, he turned his cold gaze on Katsuro. The man looked unimpressed, but Katsuro could see two fingers looped inside the waist of his fatigues. The thoughtless gesture probably put him within reach of a concealed weapon.

Katsuro closed off to the nin's appraisal, turning his shoulder and sidestepping him. If the guy was a tracker, then Katsuro would give him as little a view as possible.

"Itachi wants you," Katsuro grunted, never stopping. He wouldn't give the guy the satisfaction of rattling him, he thought as he moved away. He's just another nin passing through.

But even as he told himself that, Katsuro's own instincts were kicking in. He was as wary of anyone from Rain just as he was anyone from Akatsuki.

A few paces from the fire circle, a safe enough distance from the man, Katsuro cut a quick look over his shoulder, just in case he had to identify him later. But the man was gone.

Katsuro stopped, blinking at the spot. _He should've been there._ He scanned the immediate area for the telltale signs of a shunshin. But the disturbance in the air that usually accompanied the body-flicker wasn't present. Not one leaf moved, nor was any dust kicked up from a sudden swirl. It was as if he vanished.

Frowning, Katsuro slowly turned back to his path.

###

Inside the tent, there was a whisper of fabric. The canvas door flapped gently, moving in some unseen breeze. Then it swung back into place, falling still.

Itachi quietly set aside his scroll and steepled his fingers at his chin, looking straight toward the empty door. As if stepping through the fabric, the tracker from the Rain appeared in the tent.

Itachi watched him, taking note of the strange translucency at the edge of his sleeves and pant legs. But in the next second, the light shifted, and the thinness of the color appeared to be a just a trick of the light.

"You are the tracker, I assume?" Itachi folded his hands on the desk and nodded to him to come forward.

The man slowly approached, a bland expression settling on his face.

"I have a task for you before you return," Itachi said, laying his hand over a small, thin scroll. But the man didn't move to accept it.

A small sack of coins was dropped next to the scroll. "You will be reimbursed for your trouble, of course."

At this, the man finally showed some interest. He stepped forward, scooping up the change purse first, surreptitiously measuring it's weight as he pocketed it, then retrieved the thin scroll.

"I would like another demonstration of your talents…."

Even before Itachi had finished speaking, the light around the man shifted. The edges of his clothing thinned and his whole appearance looked flat, like a piece of paper. Then, he simply disappeared.

Itachi nodded to the empty space, mildly impressed.

Indeed, in the silence, there wasn't a trace of the man that was standing there. Or had he moved? Combining shinobi training for stealth with a trick of the light like that would be a useful technique.

Itachi let his sharingans bleed to the surface and immediately recognized the chakra disturbance a few paces away from where the man had disappeared.

"Good," he said, nodding to the new spot. "Excellent. You may leave off now."

The man reappeared, stepping forward and regaining his visibility with the movement. He had the disconcerting appearance of stepping out of thin air. But only when he was back in front of Itachi, full appearance restored, did Itachi let his eyes fade to black.

The man's bored look was still firmly in place. Obviously he was so used to performing his parlor trick for clients, that he failed to realize _this_ particular client was copying his technique. The corner of Itachi's mouth quirked into a mean smile.

"Yes, I think you will do quite well," Itachi continued. The tracker dipped his head and awaited orders.

* * *

Even though she was far down the path, Sakura could still hear the dull grind of Konoha's massive gates swinging closed behind her. The warming spring breeze was wonderful, and it was a joy to be trekking out again, especially through her favorite part of the deeps woods around the village. It was resplendent and bright green, from the thick moss under her feet to the rustling new leaves in the canopy, which was growing thicker every day.

Konoha's climate was mild, so the transition from winter to spring wasn't as noticeable as it was in other countries. But the territories she passed through were just awakening from the doldrums of winter. By the last leg of her journey, the only green was in the soft tufts of new grass that clung to the roadsides. But yellowy shoots were poking through everywhere, and the hardiest early bloomers were showing their faces to the sun.

At the outskirts of the land around the trade village was an old stone marker, denoting the beginning of the village woods. And, as if to advertise the thing they were best known for, a gorgeous old cherry tree was planted just paces from the stone.

It was beautiful and full. The gnarled stump twisted around and disappeared into the great cloud of pink and white blossoms. And beneath it was a wispy patch of green grass. So inviting, but she couldn't stop. Instead she contented herself by watching it as she approached, letting the image mingle with a memory of another cherry tree, so perfectly situated, in the temple painting. It's canopy hanging just so, providing the perfect cover of safety under its sheltering limbs. Sakura took a satisfying breath as she passed, then forced her attention to the road ahead.

This was no painting. And her happy memories of Katsuro centered around an entirely different, very real tree, from the summer past. Her mouth curved up. She was so excited to see him. She wondered if he felt the same. Somewhere out there, daydreaming about trees, and their time spent together, and more time to come.

There wasn't long to be preoccupied: She was upon the town before she knew it.

Similar to Konoha, thick stone walls surrounded the trade village. But these were not military fortifications; their walls were much lower. And as a result, the tops of blossoming cherry trees were visible beyond the highest stones.

It was as if a great pink fog bank had settled over the town. But among the flowering drifts shot up little signs of the festivities within the walls: a colorful kite here, a long flowing streamer there. And little lanterns were bobbing even from the highest limbs.

It looked like a gorgeous party was waiting just beyond the walls, and Sakura's mounting excitement was tempered a little by the throng of people who seemed to feel the same way.

Citizens, merchants, travelers and noblemen were all coming and going through the enormous wooden gates.

On either side, the massive red doors were flung back against the old walls, latches rusted in place. It was another testament to the village's designation as a merchant town. Though it was near in size to Konoha, this village wanted visitors. It didn't have secrets to keep in.

Sakura wound her way down with the crowd. All around her was chatter and laughter. The air smelled _good,_ thick with scents of cooking food from beyond the walls. Her stomach growled, but she didn't need to be embarrassed here — there was no chance anyone heard her.

Two children were darting in and out of the crowd, toys in one hand and paper-wrapped sweets in another, laughing hard. Sakura couldn't help but smile as they threaded through the crowd, quickly making their way through the gates simply because they were so small.

Their excitement was infectious: Sakura decided she couldn't wait to get through either. Standing on her toes, she craned her neck for just a glimpse of what lay beyond. Once through, she'd be able to see the whole scope of the beautifully laid out village. But right now, she'd have to settle for just the tips of the trees, and anticipation.

* * *

**Author's notes**

Wow — long time in coming for this chapter, but to make up for it, it's another long chapter! It proved much harder to write than I expected. I rewrote parts of it quite a few times. Tsunade/Itachi revealed too much, which would have drastically altered Sakura/Katsuro's behavior; and I had to take great pains so that the plot still supports the storylines to come and yet doesn't reveal too much too soon to the reader! (More about this in the extra notes on the website.) Another surprising aspect of writing this chapter was how hard it was to go back to the (little bit) darker stuff after writing such happy little scenes.

There is definitely more information in this chapter, but I tried to make it as enjoyable as possible. Interspersing the info/conversational with more active vignettes, plus a few flashbacks. So hopefully it didn't bog down the reading too much. Next chapter back to lovely active stuff. Can't wait!

The map: I drew up a realistic map like the one Tsunade would have had on her desk. Even has the grey splotch over rain! I think it turned out quite nice. Check it out at my deviant account, under trixieg (links in the profile).

So I didn't get to thank anyone for the reviews (I try to respond to all of them), because it's been crazy busy lately. So I'll just say thank you, than you, thank you! They keep me going, really. It's a big project, and I love knowing that you look forward to reading it as much as I enjoy writing and sharing.

So in that spirit, I'd like try doing a little kiriban — a gift to mark reaching a certain goal — for the 500th review and because I've rounded one year of steady writing. So it's my way of saying thank you for all the amazing feedback over the past year.

And this is a kiriban everyone can enjoy! How it will work is there will be a poll on my profile of what kind of preview you'd like to see: Naruto in the Akatsuki; Naruto interacting with Sakura after he's returned to Konoha… you get the picture. So everyone can vote on what they'd like to read. Then the 500th reviewer gets the final vote. (If the 500th is anonymous or doesn't want to participate, then I can still do the kiriban based on votes. And with a preview, I can easily slip it in without taking away from the chapter writing.)

I don't know if anyone has done this before, but we'll try it and see how it goes! So read, review and vote, and in the next couple of chapters we can all look forward to a Naruto preview!

**Chapter notes**

• Chapter is definitely about their parallel assignments and lives. There are lots of things mirroring: there are manipulators on both sides; some people you can trust but more you distrust (for Katsuro, it's only Sakura whom he can trust); Sasuke and Katsuro are both valued for their powers, with Danzo and Itachi driving the main instigators. Anyway there are lots of little reflected things, so if you get a sense of the parallels, then I'm happy. And I'll only go into the most intentional, outright themes in the notes.

• Sasuke's clothes — so, I've said Sasuke is hard to write for. One of my problems as a reader is that I always envision him in his part 2 clothes whenever he matures in a fic. It doesn't matter how well described his outfit is, I always picture him as the way he is in the manga. So in an effort to bypass this little visual hiccup, I've got him in his manga clothes, but as a nod to tradition and his clan. Let me know what you think — am I the only one that's bothered by this? Does leaving him in part 2 clothes work for you or not? (lol — And please disregard the fact that I've completely change Naruto's clothes _and_ appearance!) Check out e-nat's "Sasuke design" on deviantart for a great pic of what I would imagine Sasuke to look like. It was sheer coincidence that I stumbled on this in the process of writing the chapter.

• _"We have no assurance that you would not seek your brother out," a council member prodded meanly. "Abandon Konoha, your teammates, your mission, for the sole reason of exacting a toll on him."_ — I don't like Sasuke in the manga, but I do feel sorry for him. He is ultimately a pawn. Even in revenge. So here I'm trying to write him as a realistic extension of part one Sasuke before Orochimaru. At some point, he would have had to obeyed orders and not pursued Itachi. No matter how much he wanted to and was justified in doing it. So I've had the council members worry about him choosing the path to revenge, as he did in the manga.

• Council vs. shinobi politics — just to touch on this….I am writing the village structure with a military side and a political/civilian side, and they have to work together. Tsunade's powerful, but she still has to get along diplomatically with the ones who put her into power.

• _He was a merely a vessel for the Uchiha's prized sharingan. A weapon to be jealously guarded. Sasuke must have always known this._ — in the manga, Naruto and Sasuke are both vessels. No one calls Sasuke a sharingan container or a susano'o container (like Naruto as the demon container) but they might as well. So in this story I've put more focus on the similarities between the power they hold and the people who want to use it.

• _Drawing one foot even with the other, standing in the exact spot as Sasuke, Sakura had a moment of clarity: It was true, they weren't a team. …. She'd had a taste of Sasuke's fury. And she was in a unique position to understand his point of view. She wouldn't let it go to waste._ — Sakura understands Sasuke's point-of-view. To reinforce this change of perception, I have Sakura physically taking his place on the floor. Then later she really does assume his mindset when she yells at the council.

• _Heart racing, words dried up, she returned to her seat. She'd really done it now. It was only when her warm hands wrapped around the edge of the cold bench did she remember to breathe._ — Something that bothers me about fanfics is that the characters blast in, completely confident, and do whatever brave thing they came to do. It just doesn't ring true to me. So I think whether fighting or standing up to someone, there is an element of fear that the character must overcome, or an adrenaline burst that carries them through the terrifying moment. That the bravery and fear are linked together. I hope this conveys.

- _Tsunade's office: "Sakura rapped once and, receiving permission to enter, opened the Hokage's office door to be greeted by another push of warm air. Apparently even Tsunade had figured out a way to enjoy the fine weather: a window behind her desk was cracked open. The little gust of wind rippled across the papers scattered across her desk." Itachi's tent: "The tent flap lifted and fell closed behind the courier. A warm spring breeze skittered through, but was cut off by the fall of the thick canvas. It was an unwanted disturbance in the controlled air of the tent."_ — Really worked hard to create subtle differences between the two worlds. This was the most overt, how both leaders interact with the world around them. So hopefully, when thought of side-by-side, the Konoha world is light and open, and Itachi's world is closed off, full of shadows.

• Tsunade: "Something is happening in these border countries," she began slowly. "But I just can't figure it out what's going on…." Itachi: Itachi narrowed his eyes. And to double up on assignments….If that was the case, then where had Katsuro gone in the time between missions? _What was he doing out there? — _Echoed theme, both wonder 'what is going on out there.' So building suspense for things to come.

• Danzo — hmmm, he represents the manipulative factions within the Leaf. I don't know if he will be a bigger villain later on or not. But right now, he is the counterpart to Itachi's manipulating ways, just as he is in the manga, with both of them using Sasuke as a means to an end.

• _Tsunade pointed to the red dot of a town Sakura was assigned to. It was in the center of a spiderweb of trade roads. … Katsuro: "Here," he said pointing to the large merchant village at the confluence of many trade roads. "There's a festival coming up, I'll meet him on the northern road the night after it ends."_ — same town, different perspectives.

• _Tsunade: "And if we can uncover a pattern, then we can find out what's happening." Itachi: This time Itachi was watching for his studied carelessness. Katsuro shrugged, then evaded eye contact — it was the same as before. He'd found a pattern._ — important theme, will come back again. That when you don't know what's going on, if you can find a pattern you can trace it back to it's source. Tsunade's pattern is self-protective for Konoha, while Itachi's is of much darker intent, trying to root out what's going on with Katsuro. Same tactic, different feelings.

• _Tsunade: "There's nothing there but rain. … That country's been at war with itself for years. Just one less border to patrol. They're no threat to us." … The muddy pothole was already overflowing when the cold downpour began again. Fat rain drops sloshed out more water, spilling it down into the narrow channels of the cobblestone lane._ — So the gray blotch covering the Rain territory on the map corresponds to the gray pothole. Katsuro is not necessarily in the Rain territory in the scene.


	25. Festival, Part 1

_Come to the orchard in spring._

_There is light and wine, and sweethearts_

_in the pomegranate flowers._

_..._

_If you do not come, these do not matter._

_If you do come, these do not matter._

_—Rumi, trans. by Coleman Barks_

* * *

Chapter 25 - Festival, Part 1

Dropping her pack in the corner of the second floor room, Sakura leaned out the open window for a moment. White curtains billowed at either side. The early spring weather was still cool but pleasant. Outside the courtyard, the cherry blossoms beckoned, their airy branches stretching over the white walls of the old inn.

Sakura stayed only long enough to leave her excuses about being out late. The woman who ran the inn barely listened, waving Sakura on once she had finished speaking. No opening doors, no curious looks like the ones she'd grown used to in all her other travels. With so many out-of-town people here, Sakura received no more special treatment than any other paying customer. She could come and go as she pleased.

So with a spring in her step, Sakura set out to enjoy the beauty of the cherry blossoms before the opening of the trade meeting.

The village was flawless. Sakura felt a little guilty — it was much prettier than Konoha. The streets were smoothly paved, free from hanging lines and wash. Everyone seemed to take great care in the appearance of their homes and stores. She rounded a corner just as a man was sweeping the fallen cherry petals back into the road, away from the entrance to his store. He smiled and bobbed his head in greeting. She smiled brightly back. A stray petal had landed in his thick black hair, as if having the last word. The man returned to his task, swirling up petals like snow at his feet. She laughed to herself — even the debris they sweep up is beautiful!

Indeed, the only blemish to the manicured facades were the cherry petals, but no one seemed to truly mind. They studded the brown buildings and grey roofs. They ebbed at the edges of paths like the foam of a pink surf. They clung to silk robes and tattered coats alike. They floated in constellations atop the village's blue-black canals.

The waterways were the crowning feature of the village plan, lined on each side with cherry trees and wide walkways. The flow of a single river had been diverted into several canals, which spread like blue fingers through the town. Blossom viewers could follow the meandering canals deep into the residential areas or straight through the heart of the village. It was designed to show the village at it's best advantage, and it worked. Everyone was drawn to the canals, including Sakura.

She marveled at the cherry trees — and the wide range of people taking strolls underneath them. Stopping at one of the arched red bridges that crossed the canals, Sakura took in the sweeping view of white trees that hung out over the water. Families and couples, young and old, hard working men and elegant women, were all made equal under the lacy shadows of the delicate branches.

Tittering laughter echoed from the bank nearby. Sakura turned to see a girl, not much older than herself, dressed in a sumptuously layered kimono. She laughed again as another stream of blossoms rained down around her. The young man accompanying her had jostled a branch just to watch her reaction. The reward of his joke was clear in the smile on his face. He was just reaching forward to lift a stray petal from her hair when Sakura looked away, leaving them to their intimate moment.

Breathing a contented sigh, Sakura leaned on the railing and watched the petals slowly drift towards her down the canal. Everything seemed to be held in a delicate balance: the arching white boughs overhead, interlaced with bright blue patches of sky, the soft silver-black waters flowing beneath her feet, and her, afloat in the middle of it all on the wooden bridge. She breathed deeply, this time a familiar excitement slipping in with her contentment. The beauty of the scene was made better knowing that she might be able to share it with Katsuro. Only with that secret thought was she able to turn away and focus on the meeting ahead of her.

A rich baritone laugh drew her attention this time, but only because lighter spirits were so wildly out of place in this environment. Most of the crowd gathered for the trade summit greeted each other in cool silence, punctuated only by tight smiles and nods of recognition. But the handsome politician in cream silks welcomed the emissaries as if it were a pleasant reunion.

As it was, the large hall was already filling with guests. The trade meeting was held in the sprawling home of a former samurai, the next thing to royalty in a village of this sort. It was everything Sakura expected from a warrior-turned-cultured politician: Wide rooms that flowed from one to another, sumptuous scrolls and gilded folding screens, and grounds that rivaled any of the old castles she'd visited.

From the midst of her envoy, Sakura's eyes roved the large hall. The dignitaries stood in clusters, flanked by associates, attendants and security, like Sakura. There were town politicians, wealthy merchants and even wealthier clan leaders. The hearty laugh echoed up again from the ranks of one of these families.

Clans were the easiest to pick out: Women were in those groups, there to partake of the gardens while the men sat in the meeting. For them, this was a social affair.

While Sakura scanned the room, a willowy woman split off from her clan and crossed the pale floor. Her daughters fell in line behind her, elegantly unconcerned with the appreciative looks they drew. They floated out the open screen doors, across the wide porch and down the steps into the garden. It struck Sakura that perhaps the women were also hoping to strike deals at this meeting.

The clan head Sakura was assigned to was an exception. He was there to improve his family's standing, not swell their numbers. He ignored the languid women completely.

The charming politician's laugh sounded up from a different quadrant this time. He was obviously working the room.

Sakura's diplomat sniffed in disdain at the sound. Standing in front of her, back rigid, the shrewd man had no interest in the overly flaunting clan heads and their yards of colorful silks. His black kimono reflected his restrained perspective: It only had the most tasteful of decorations, picked out in fine silver threads. He turned his head, seeing someone he knew, and Sakura suddenly wondered if he'd matched the silver color of the robes to the faint grey showing at his temples. Probably, she thought with a smirk, finding a wicked pleasure in discovering that he was secretly as vain as the men he tried so hard not to be like.

But he was here strictly for business. And his meticulous appearance paid off. Other men, of similar manner and dress and station, sought him out.

Sakura perked up as more guests approached them, hoping to glean some background information. But their conversations were aloof. No more than formal greetings. Sakura stifled a sigh.

Subtly glancing around, Sakura mentally checked off her list from Tsunade. _Watch the meeting, see who interacts on the surface and which ones seek each other out later. Watch the doors, sometimes you can spot budding allegiances in who's coming and going together. Above all, find out as much as you can._

Another man passed, looking decidedly different from all the other men gathered here. His robes were of rougher material and a little frayed at the sleeves. Dust marred the creases of the serviceable garment, and his hands and face were rough with use or exposure.

He paused, murmuring a greeting to the sharp-eyed clan head she was assigned to guard. Sakura expected her diplomat to shun the man, but to her surprise, her clan leader struck up conversation with him.

Sakura had just let her gaze drift back to center, listening to their conversation, when the man's retinue of equally rough-looking guards materialized behind him. If the bulge of concealed weapons wasn't intimidating enough, then the scars these men sported would have warned anyone of their occupation. Sakura forgot to listen, instead puzzling over what the man did that would warrant such a fierce looking guard. They glared at her. At everyone, really. Sakura ignored them.

A warm chuckle thrummed through the soft conversation beside her. Sakura knew instantly that the charming politician had worked his way around to them.

She subtly rocked forward for a better view. The two dignitaries stood close, opening their ranks only slightly for the newcomer. The conversation became louder and shifted to more neutral topics. Sakura sighed to herself. She hoped that simple eavesdropping would net her some information. But so far it hadn't yielded anything. She needed to change up her tactics if she wanted to return home with any useful data for Tsunade.

The man in the cream silks rested his eyes on her for a moment, a quizzical expression gracing his features. Then it was gone behind another bright smile. He turned to field some questions about the meeting. Sakura couldn't decide whether he was another out-of-town emissary or if he was attending on behalf of the host. He seemed to know quite a lot about what was going on, but he didn't seem to be attached to a single clan.

Conversation was amiable, but the hard-worn man was desirous of more private conversation. He held out an arm in open invitation to stroll the garden before the meeting.

As the clan leader's guard, Sakura was about to fall into step behind him. But the the genteel man cut her and the rest of his entourage off with a flick of his hand. "Your presence is not required here," he said icily.

The attendants dutifully dispersed to prepare for the meeting. Sakura was left to her own devices. Ignoring the skulking men a few paces from her, she was about to retreat to the garden walks as well, and see if she could pick up some snippets of conversation, when a smooth voice intoned at her shoulder.

"You must forgive me. I took you for a noblewoman when I first saw you."

Sakura turned at the sound. Long black hair, tied in a sleek knot at the nape of his neck, faintly bronze skin and a curving smile…. The politician who had charmed his way into nearly every group in the room now turned his full attention on her. He was taller than she was and probably a good ten years older. But he waited on Sakura as if she were a noblewoman.

He couldn't be more wrong, she thought. Sakura tipped her chin up and gazed back defiantly.

But his smile only grew wider. And as it did, a thin scar rippled up at the top of his cheek. It was only a pale half-moon, just below the corner of his eye, but it lent something of a dashing air to the spotless silks and pleasing facade he presented. He cocked his eyebrow, looking even more roguishly handsome.

"No. I can see now you are nothing like the women here."

Sakura had to stop herself from rolling her eyes.

Seeing that flattery got him nowhere, he took a more playful tone. "Yet you look nothing like the others in your profession."

He cast a significant glance at the churlish men across the room. Sakura followed his sightline to the scarred, rough bunch. On this point she agreed with him.

"So," he drawled, "are you a common security detail or did you take a class—"

Sakura turned her head swiftly, shooting him a withering glare. He laughed out loud. That arrow had found it's mark.

"A true shinobi, then."

Sakura did roll her eyes then, refusing to play his game. She moved to step away but he stopped her. His hand rested lightly on her arm, never touching her skin.

"Ah, come now. I didn't mean to offend you," he said smoothly. "Let me make amends. I know a secret about this home that I think you, more than anyone else here, would find interesting."

Sakura looked at him skeptically. Was he serious? All this attention and she'd never uttered a word? What was he on about?

"It was designed specifically to keep shinobi _out_," he whispered, eyes dancing with delight. Sakura couldn't deny that she was interested.

"If we hurry, we can see it before the meeting begins. Come," he said, spreading his arm to the open screen door.

Her instincts warred with her requirements of the mission. It was risky. And snubbing him publicly would certainly land her in hot water with her employer. But the man liked to talk. He may yet drop some useful information. She decided the risk was worth it.

Besides, she thought, eyeing him up and down, she could take him.

Sakura nodded once and stepped through the doorway onto the wide polished porch, her companion a step behind.

They walked the length of the complex, turning corner after corner, but never leaving the exterior of the main building. Sakura was watching for any deceptions, but she detected none.

The man talked congenially, but it was of the sort that didn't require much of a response, so Sakura kept silent.

Turning away from the gardens, they walked down the stretch of porch that ran the length of the far side of the house. The walls of the compound were closest on this side, just visible over the tops of the shrubbery.

The one-sided conversation grew thin. She was only distantly aware of the birds chirping and the slight give to the porch, keeping a sharp eye as to what was so damn interesting out here.

The more they walked, the more the floor groaned under their feet. Then another strange chirp mixed in with the spring bird sounds. Sakura stepped again. The chirp returned. Easing from one foot to another produced an entirely different chirp.

She shot a look at the man, who was smiling into her face.

"A nightingale floor?" He nodded with a grin.

Sakura rocked back and forth, making the strange friction noise work in time with her feet.

"I thought you of all people would find this interesting."

Sakura smiled. He was right, she did.

They continued down the porch, the sharp sounds only increasing as they approached the various sliding doors on this side of the house. Sakura tried to walk as lightly as possible, but the noises gave her away. She backtracked, then retraced her steps trying to find a path. But it was impossible to avoid.

"What an ingenious thing," she said with smiling wonderment, the boards squeaking even as she spoke.

The man laughed. "Since this area is closest to the wall, it is the most vulnerable to sneak attacks. So to thwart assassins, or _shinobis,_" he looked at her significantly, "one of the previous generations had this floor installed."

He pressed a toe down on an extra loud board, chirping out a few beats.

She laughed, her smile open and earnest. He smiled back at her, pleased that it pleased her.

"I thought you might like it," he said warmly.

She reined in some of her enthusiasm to a more respectable aloofness. "Thank you, I do."

"Good." He slid one of the paneled doors open gallantly. "Shall we rejoin the group?"

A gong sounded and the group moved en masse to the large traditional meeting hall. The diplomats took their places at the gleaming ebony table, as most trusted attendants clustered behind each chair. The rest were relegated to the benches against the wall.

Standing behind the diplomat she was hired by, Sakura donned her most impassive facade. She let her eyelids slide halfway down. Then, as the steady murmur and rustle of scrolls took hold, Sakura began to study the group.

It was just as Tsunade had outlined: a mixture of wealth and power. The rough-looking bunch hung behind their leader, looking every bit like a pack of dogs. Sakura was at a loss as to how that group fit into this puzzle. The charming politician took a place near an impressive clan. He caught her eye once, but to his credit he did not attempt to single her out again.

The tone of the meeting made the stifling atmosphere of the gathering room feel like a picnic. It was all business in here. The real negotiations started tomorrow. But if this was any indication, then it would be long and tense.

Twilight was softly upon them, ivory lamplight flickering across the gold panels, when the gong sounded to adjourn the meeting. Everyone rose together. Sakura relished the movement in her muscles. But as they folded into the stream of people exiting the room, she realized it would be impossible to watch for alliances and maintain her position with her envoy. She couldn't see past the bobbing heads and shoulders around her.

She needed to come up with a better strategy. Sighing inwardly, she headed toward the door.

* * *

Strolling back to the center of town under the darkening sky, Sakura shook off the tension of the meeting. It wasn't hard: the change in scenery from the afternoon was dramatic. Lanterns suspended from the treetops and were just now twinkling to life. Their red glow cast the petals into a deeper shade of pink, and the whole scene took on an other-worldly feel.

Adding to the excitement were the colorful creatures that Sakura spotted every so often. Sometimes it was the face of a thunderous war god, other times it was the streaming cloak of a haunting spirit. But whichever costume they chose, the village youths were making a brisk business for the vendors selling masks and cloaks. And it only added to the carnival-like feeling of the night-time blossom viewing.

Most of the costumed festival-goers seemed harmless. But when Sakura spied a pack of masked teens crossing the lane quickly ahead of her, she changed her mind. They were moving quickly, jostling bystanders out of their path, before ducking between two vendor's stalls.

Sakura narrowed her eyes. _They can't be up to any good._ She followed in their wake, rounding the corner a few steps behind them.

And sure enough, the kids were pilfering food from an old farmer who had the misfortune of selling his produce off the main road. The biggest one was hulking over the farmer, blocking his view, while the others pocketed as much food as they could.

"Hey!" Sakura's sharp voice startled them all. Fruit tumbled from hands and pockets, rolling everywhere. The one occupying the farmer turned quickly at the interruption. Even through the eyeholes of the grotesque mask Sakura could see he was ablaze with anger.

"Dammit. Come on," the big one grumbled, flashing his thick hand at the group. His voice was deeper than Sakura expected, and as he straightened to dash off, Sakura was surprised to find he was taller than she expected too. Sakura watched them disappear, summing up that these were probably overgrown teens, as old if not older than her, and they were clearly taking advantage of the costumes.

The farmer was grumbling at his bad luck, but he was none the worse for wear. He was more interested in packing his crates and moving locations than speaking to anyone else at the moment. Sakura left him to his work.

Wandering back up the broadest tree-lined canal, Sakura couldn't deny those kids had a good strategy, even if they were the village delinquents. There were lots of people dressed up in the very same masks and cloaks, and not all of them young. If that little gang had done any real harm it would be nearly impossible to find them.

She stopped at the base of one of the arched bridges and leaned her back against the rail. More crowds came and went, not all of them costumed, but interesting characters nonetheless. Gone were the families and sweethearts of the early afternoon. Now the noblemen, merchants and commoners all mingled together. And the men and women watched each other with an interest that suited the drama of the red blossom clouds drifting overhead.

A throng of men strolled up the lane, turning to cross the bridge. They were well dressed, in sleek, dark kimonos. Sakura thought she recognized one from the meeting and looked at him full in the face to be sure. It was not him, but her searching gaze did not go unnoticed, and as they passed the men all looked in her direction. A few even deigned to nod at her.

Sakura nodded politely, thinking to herself that they probably thought a young kunoichi was just as odd a sight as a masked thunder god come to life, when a tightly packed group of women of turned onto the bridge. They were clearly companions of the men, in equal number and just as impeccably dressed.

And, like the men, the women had not missed Sakura's appraisal either.

Swishing their brightly colored kimonos, the women whispered to each other, each one getting an eyeful of Sakura's very non-traditional apparel. Most simply snickered and averted their gaze as they passed. But the one on the end made a big show of sweeping out a gorgeous long sleeve as she came even with Sakura.

She touched a finger to a sprig of blossoms nestled atop her black hair, jingling the dainty chimes that hung from a hairstick affixed there. The effect was magical: Sound glittered around her as she walked. But the icy look she slanted at Sakura was anything but beautiful. She clearly perceived the kunoichi as a threat.

Stifling a laugh at the thought, Sakura ignored the cold glare and looked back down the bridge. The woman was apparently satisfied with her victory over the upstart kunoichi. She tossed her head to set the chimes moving again, but her own haughty laughter drowned out the pleasant ringing.

Sakura sighed, folding her arm over her waist. The loveliness was not what it seemed here. She'd wait a little longer before she set out to walk around the village. Right now she could still pass her time by fact-gathering, watching for someone she might recognize from the meeting. But she saw no one of interest.

However, Tsunade's meticulous instruction at observation did pay off in some unintended ways.

Slipping in amongst the promenading families were other beautiful women. Sakura would have dismissed them completely if she hadn't caught the snide looks on several noblewomen's faces.

These women didn't miss the withering glances either, but they simply laughed it off. Because where the nobles ignored them, the commoners smiled and deferred to their friendly, open manners. And these women were happy to give their attention.

They were courtesans, Sakura realized. Entertainers, attendants. These girls made it their livelihood to bring a colorful light to their patrons' world. And they did their job well: Whether they were in a group or accompanying an individual, it was like a ray of sunshine followed them, even at night. They rivaled even the cherry blossoms for attention.

After seeing several pass by, Sakura began to study them in earnest. _That would be a good disguise in a pinch._

A group of courtesans strode up the lane, but one woman broke off near the bridge. Sakura watched her closely. With fluid grace, the woman leaned out and plucked an overripe fruit from a farmer's cart. The old man's parchment cheeks stained pink. He smiled broadly, revealing several missing teeth. It was jarring. But instead of shirking him, the courtesan took it all in stride. She smiled glowingly back, looking past the flaw.

_She's after something other than fruit._

The courtesan laid her hand on the man's ragged coat sleeve, so different from her flowing silk kimono. A question wilted her rose-blossom lips. She looked across the canal, feigning sadness (Sakura could tell) and pointed a slender white finger. Rows of wrinkles furrowed up the man's forehead as he sought out the source of her displeasure. Sakura was compelled to look as well. A cluster of noblemen were walking together, heads bowed, talking closely. All different ages, all with varying looks. Yet their wealth was visible on their sleeves. The money put out for those silk robes alone could float a small town for a month, Sakura thought.

The old farmer laughed, delighted to be of use to the beautiful woman. He passed on what little he knew and was rewarded with the return of happiness to her face. She nodded and bowed in thanks to the old man as if he were a regal nobleman. The farmer was so delighted with her praise that he pushed another perfect round fruit into her hand before she left.

Sakura was amazed. That woman had gotten her information, and the man had been thrilled to tell her. Even gave her a parting gift!

Steady to her purpose, she crossed the lane towards Sakura, the bridge and presumably to her conquest, one of the wealthy men in the group.

Sakura was not expecting any acknowledgement, but as she approached, the woman startled her with a knowing look. Her glittering eyes and the slightest smirk curving up the corners of her red mouth told her everything. In an instant, an unspoken message passed between them like a lesson from teacher to student: She had used her feminine wiles to get what she needed.

The courtesan must have known Sakura was watching her. The kunoichi blushed lightly, a little embarrassed at being caught. But the woman's smile only deepened. She nodded to Sakura, and Sakura, understanding now that witnessing this woman's subtle manipulations was a lesson freely given, nodded back.

Eyes shifting back to her prize, the woman continued on, leaving only the soft rustle of silks and sweet perfume in the air behind her.

Unaccountably, Sakura thought of Tsunade. She thought that somehow, the Hokage would approve of this woman's strategies, using her beauty and charm was a tool. In this instance it was probably more persuasive than a kunai.

The woman and her conquest moved out of sight. Sakura pushed off from the rail and decided that it was finally late enough to set out on her real purpose as well.

Excitement that she'd kept buried for months now threatened to consume her. _Maybe tonight, maybe tonight…. _Walking was exactly what she needed right now.

She followed the canals, taking each of them deep into the different quadrants of the village. She walked until the anticipation was dampened. She walked until the fantastical pink branches had started to loose some of their luster. She walked until she had completely convinced herself she wouldn't see him. _Maybe not tonight, after all. _

Deeper in the residential sections of the village, almost near the outer wall, the pavers gave way to gravel. The trees were thinning out, and the crowds seemed to have abandoned these sections of the canal. The homes were still tidy, but they were not nearly as nice as the ones closer in to the center. She was just wondering if there was a bad section to this village, when a stone skipped out of the alley between two blocks of homes.

Slowing, Sakura took her time, fully aware that it could be Katsuro…or anyone else prone to hiding in dark corners.

Never veering from her path, she walked until she was just upon the pebble, then turned to look down the alley. Sure enough, there was a figure in the shadows. It peeled itself off the wall, and stepped toward the light, but never crossed out of that dark line. It stopped, facing her.

Sakura knew that profile, the soft curve of his shoulders and elbows when he stood with his hands shoved into his pockets. His head was tipped to the side. Even in darkness, she knew he was smiling.

"Katsuro," she whispered. But she didn't wait for his signal, that subtle little nod she knew so well. Instead she dashed the few steps and crossed over into the darkness with him.

"Sakura," he said warmly when she was close enough to hear.

"I'm so glad you made it," she said immediately, excitement bubbling to the surface. Her eyes roved over him, taking him in all at once. "How have you been? I'm so happy you came. The festival is beautiful, I can't wait to show you. How are you?"

She paused for a breath. He chuckled softly. His hair had grown a bit, and the unruly locks gently shook when he laughed. But he was perfectly as she remembered him, even if a bit dusty and road weary. They were still a match in height. And his eyes still fixed her with a measure of warmth that made her feel like she was the only person in the world.

"It's so good to see you again," he said quietly.

"Did you just get here? There is so much to see—"

The sound of voices drifted up from across the canal. They both stopped, watched and waited until the voices receded.

Katsuro sighed softly. "I can't stay long."

"Oh." Sakura couldn't ignore the wistful note in his voice. Swallowing her disappointment, she reached for his hand to tug him along. "Well, we'll have to make the most of it—"

But he didn't budge.

Instead he twined his fingers around hers, clasping her hand tightly. Sakura stopped, instantly aware of how much she liked the feeling of his hands, warm and callused, in hers. It felt so right, a perfect fit. Turning back slowly, she pressed her palm against his, grateful for the darkness. It made her feel more brave than she otherwise might have been.

Until that moment, she didn't know how much she had missed him. Or just how deep her feelings ran. She only knew that however long he could stay, it would not be nearly long enough.

A little embarrassed at this realization, Sakura hurried on to other topics.

"Anyway, I…uh…I was looking for you. I mean, I hoped I'd see you." She cleared her throat. "I mean…uh…have you ever been to a cherry blossom festival?"

Katsuro just laughed softly, dragging his thumb over her skin. "What do you think?"

"Yeah…" she said with a dry laugh. "I guess I should have known. Probably not."

Katsuro's touch left a trail of fire across the back of her hand. His eyes, blue-black in the darkness, were intently fixed on her.

Sakura felt suddenly warm. Desperate for some activity, she tugged his arm again, falling back to her earlier plans of showing him the blossoms. Whether he wanted to go or not.

He resisted slightly, still smiling into her face, but when she pulled again, this time it dislodged something.

A sack fell with a heavy metallic clink to the ground. Katsuro instantly let go of her hand.

"Oh, sorry," she said reaching down at the same time as him. But he snatched it up before she could help. The shift of coins in the fat, round bottom of the cinched sack was unmistakeable.

"Money?" she said, surprised.

"An errand," he quietly corrected, slipping the bag around to some secret pocket at the small of his back.

"That's quite a lot for just an—"

"I only deliver it," he said crisply, cloak swirling back into place. He looked her square in the face. His brown eyes didn't hold a trace of their former softness. "I don't ask questions."

An old, familiar chill crept in. What he meant was, she shouldn't ask questions either.

She tore her gaze away, looking down at the ground between them, her thoughts turning inward.

He was a rogue after all, she thought. It was a sharp reminder of just how complex their friendship was. For the first time, she wondered if maybe she should be looking deeper.

She blinked once, and meant to step away, just put a little distance between them so she could think, but Katsuro caught her arm.

"Hey, I told you this stuff doesn't matter to me." He looked at her with the earnest openness she knew so well. The warmth of his hand on her arm was strangely reassuring.

"If they had me delivering chopsticks, I'd do it," he said, drawing closer to her, his face wreathed in a hopeful half-smile. "As long as I get to see you."

Sakura bit her lip and studied his face. There was a tightness at the corner of his eyes she'd missed before. He was tired. She had overlooked it in the excitement of seeing him. That explained a lot. She knew enough of him now to know that missions gone awry weighed heavily on him. She pushed all the other doubts from her mind.

"Well, I _was hoping_ you'd come to the festival with me" she rejoined, tapping a finger lightly at the front of his cloak. "Actually, it was one of the reasons I took this mission," she admitted.

Katsuro's smile faded. His grip on her arm softened. Sakura watched him closely. His hesitation was evident, but she also thought she might be able to persuaded him, if he felt safe enough. She pushed on, undaunted.

"It's so beautiful, this town is renowned for its blossoms. And travelers will be here from everywhere, so no one would notice two more. You could henge or we could—"

"No," he said emphatically, stepping back from her. "I could never henge here. It's too dangerous." Katsuro looked distinctly uncomfortable. "You know, what with the rise in chakra levels and all," he muttered. "Could be people here trained to notice things like that…."

He rubbed a hand over his neck. "I mean, for something this public it would have to be a disguise, at least…."

But Sakura was inwardly pleased. He was considering it, and that was enough for her.

"Right! Well lucky for you," she stepped toward him, "I've already figured it out. Wear your cloak, and I'll pick up some festival masks. We'll look just like everyone else!"

Hands at her hips, Sakura shifted her weight to one side and shot him a challenging grin. "Trust me, this will work!"

Katsuro took one, long look at her. Standing in the darkness, smiling brilliantly, she'd worked it all out. Taken into account his situation, allayed his fears. How could he say no?

Her eyes glittered. She rocked once on the balls of her feet.

Katsuro breathed deeply. "Ok."

He supposed he could wait until tomorrow to tell her….

"We'll have a great time. You'll see," she said and playfully punched his arm.

"Owww!" Katsuro gingerly rubbed the spot, but it did the job of coaxing the smile back to his face.

* * *

In the luminous blue of morning the trade summit began again.

Everyone resumed their stony positions as if time hadn't passed from the evening before. Sakura stood till her feet ached. But the meeting dragged on and on.

She had been able to glean some general information about the representatives, but nothing personal. A few clans produced raw materials, and they were looking for the highest price for their goods. Some men represented towns with a great deal to be gained in trade, they lobbied for their share of products.

But still others were a mystery. Like the rough clan opposite to her. The black creases in all their sturdy clothes pitched them in stark contrast from the fluid silks of the people around them. The leader nodded once at her diplomat, his black beady eyes fixed on the genteel man. To Sakura's surprise, her diplomat nodded back. Sakura could not fathom what they were in agreement on.

By the time the midday break rolled around, Sakura had nearly given up hope of interpreting any of the men's significant glances to each other at the table. They all seemed to be in cahoots with someone or other. Sakura wasn't yet desperate enough to swap scrolls, leaving them blank ones while she scanned their contents, but she was close.

As she gathered a few morsels from the generous buffet laid out for meeting, she resolved to eavesdrop in the garden during the break.

Just finishing her plate, Sakura glanced toward the door. The rough men of the strange envoy skulked there, watching the room. Watching her.

She frowned, picking out a few more sweets as an excuse to get a better look at them and decide if they were a real threat or not.

Wherever they were from, life was hard. They all sported scars and gashes. But the marks gave them a kind of threatening credibility among the noblemen. Everyone steered clear of them.

Sakura's thoughts slipped to clinical analysis. The biggest one in the back had a black patch over his eye, angry scarred skin dragging out on his cheek and forehead. Clearly a kunai wound, she decided, and dropped another bean puff onto her plate.

But the man in front was only a little luckier. The scar he sported stopped just short of his eye, saving his vision. But without the benefit of a proper medic, the wound had healed poorly. The result was a badly disfigured face. His cheek dipped and bulged where it shouldn't. Sakura guessed it must have been a painful recovery—

The man turned suddenly, catching her inspecting his battle scar. He shot her a leering smile, stretching his lips thin to reveal several missing teeth. The old wound on his cheek puckered grotesquely.

Only self-control kept her from flinching. But as he seemed to enjoy the effect his face had on others, she shed what little sympathy she'd had for the man.

Sakura resolved to ignore them, and was just glancing back to her plate — realizing she had put several items on there that she didn't have the faintest idea what they were — when the men shifted their stance. It was so slight, no one else even noticed. But she did — she was trained to notice.

The big one with the patched eye even went so far as to rest his hand on the hilt of a hidden weapon, drawing it out of his rough waist cloth just enough to be visible.

Sakura was so focused on the man's subtle movements that the gentle pressure on her sleeve completely surprised her.

"Looks like you've made a friend," a soft baritone voice laughed at her shoulder. The hand lingered a moment longer. "Come now, you know better than to antagonize the wild things." The charming politician hovered behind her, smiling warmly.

He slanted his eyes at her over-laden plate. Caught, Sakura jettisoned it on the table. He laughed knowingly.

With efficient grace the man snagged a clean plate and plucked a handful of the choicest desserts. He handed it to her with a curving smile. "Here. Trust me, these are the best."

She sheepishly accepted and stepped away from the table. He fell into pace beside her. The surly bunch watched their movements.

"_That_ group," he said in hushed tones, tipping his head closer, "has a lot to gain here, so they have to make a big show."

Disregarding their menacing looks, he swept his eyes over the room and stopped on a large party at the other side.

"Now that crowd, they have no use for hulking men. See how everyone waits on them? They are interested in buying merchandise. Everyone wants to be in their favor."

He did not miss the alert shift in her eyes at that piece of information. Seeing her interest, the man swept his arm wide in invitation. "Come, let me escort you on the scenic route to the meeting hall."

He moved ahead expectantly. But when she didn't immediately step beside him, he looked back, an unspoken question wrinkling up his smooth, tanned forehead.

Dish of sweets perched in her hand, Sakura paused for the barest of moments. She had the distinct feeling that if it were a more private setting he would have held out his hand. There was something more than friendly in his tone. He was older, but not so much that accompanying him would be improper. And as a shinobi hailing from a hidden village, her social standing was probably higher than a local politician, for all his good looks. No, it would not raise eyebrows if she were to accompany him.

He curled up a corner of his mouth, not put off in the slightest by her momentary hesitation. It did help that he was so easy on the eyes, she thought.

An image from the night before flashed unbidden. The gorgeous girl smiling at the ragged farmer, using her attentions to get what she needed. And Sakura needed something from this man: information. How hard could it be?

She let a warmth suffuse her features, trying to switch off her kunoichi persona for the moment. "Of course," she said softly. Without thinking, she tucked an errant curl behind her ear.

His eyes followed the movement, smile widening. He did hold out his arm then, pale silks fluttering softly, but he never moved to touch her.

Sakura smiled demurely. From her dish she chose a delicate peach bun, it's cream cheeks just blushed with pink, and laid the plate aside. Then she fell into step beside him.

They crossed the wide room, ignoring the pointed looks of the scruffy guards, and down the broad steps into the formal garden in the center of the complex.

Winding around the stone paths, past gnarled pines with their puffs of foliage rising above the tiled roofs, the man talked and laughed, offering pleasant conversation. Sakura was saved from the necessity of speaking by the nibbles at the peach bun. Thus, as Sakura hoped, when they passed another clan head, the man filled her in on the choicest bits of news, sometimes hinting at where the clan was from and what they really hoped to gain here. Sakura found she had to do very little but smile and show her interest and he kept talking.

A few stories took on a gossipy bent. Sakura's light gasps and soft laughs did not go unnoticed, and the man smiled good-naturedly at her obvious inexperience in those more sordid affairs of state.

Something in him reminded Sakura of the innkeeper from her first mission. They were probably around the same age, although this politician's finer silk robes and longer, sleeker black ponytail only added to his natural appeal. He _was_ quite handsome. If Sakura hadn't noticed it herself then the subtle looks of passing women would have confirmed it. She supposed that if the small town innkeeper had higher ambitions, this could have been him.

"That one is another big fish," the man said, nodding to a portly man with a large entourage. He swung his squinty gaze towards Sakura for a moment. She and the politician nodded deferentially. Then the group swept through the open screens in front of them.

"Those are the ones to watch," he said, eyes following the clan till the door closed. "The smaller clans, like yours," he looked sideways at her, "well, sometimes this is the only chance they'll have to make some good deals. But men like that are the ones that oil the wheels in their part of the world." His eyes glinted for a moment, but he buried it under another broad, curving smile.

They rounded a corner, and Sakura caught sight of the rough-hewn diplomat speaking with another more genteel clan leader. His lone guard cast a surly glance in their direction, then looked away.

The man provided her with good information, but she needed more. She needed specifics. She thought of the beautiful woman again. Flattery wouldn't work here; this was a politician, not a scruffy farmer. No, this called for something more sly.

Sakura playfully tapped a finger to her lips. She scrunched up her nose, as if in thought. The man watched her.

She had a moment of cutting inspiration. "Well, if the clan heads oil the wheels," Sakura narrowed her eyes, flashing him a wicked grin, "then that man must be the oil?"

The politician laughed out loud. Several people turned their heads. But the tactic worked.

"You catch on quickly," he said, eyes glittering. He leaned closer and, with a conspiratorial whisper, proceeded to tell her exactly how they fit into the puzzle. "So, that clan owns a mine. Filthy stuff, as you can see. But he trades in ore, and their clan are accomplished metalsmiths." They rounded another corner. "Now, there are plenty of metalsmiths, but these men are experts in their field: They make weapons." He looked to Sakura, and she feigned being impressed for the sake of hearing him out.

"Highly sought-after weapons. So any merchant who can land a deal with them will be sitting on a fortune." Sakura cocked an eyebrow, clearly missing something. "But this clan over here also are excellent metalsmiths," he nodded to another man "who also forge excellent weapons. Now, if they can buy up the metals at a better price than then mine owner's clan can produce the weapons, then that clan will have the edge, because only their weapons will make it to market.

"So the mine owner listens to different offers and makes tentative deals. Tomorrow he'll circle back around to see if he can get a better offer. And then he'll sell either weapons to the merchants or bulk metals to a clan."

"Oh," Sakura said, taking it all in. "So it's a bit like a shell game."

The politician nodded. "And all these men know it."

Sakura looked around the wide gardens. There were people everywhere, beyond the ponds, walking down the wide paths, heads together in discussion.

"Everyone has something to gain or lose here." He motioned discreetly to various clusters. "Those men are looking for buyers of bulk rice from their country. And that clan hopes to improve their standing by importing cheap silks."

The list went on and on. Sakura committed it all to memory. This was the information Tsunade needed.

Talk drifted back to anecdotes, and Sakura had a lightweight feeling of relief. It must have showed. He flashed her another one of those curving smiles.

Sakura quickly shifted the conversation. "So where do you fit into all this?"

"Ah, I'm very much the same as you, I would wager." He trailed his elegant fingers along the railing of the footbridge. "I assist where I am needed and protect this town's interests where I can. I am just a lowly politician, though, completely here at the whim of these men."

Sakura said nothing. He regarded her warmly for a moment, before dropping his voice. "However, I am quite different from you in that I could never be mistaken for a member of a noblemen's clan."

Sakura merely laughed at his flattery; he pretended to be injured by the slight.

"No, really! You are nothing like your warrior compatriots over there," he said as they turned toward the meeting hall. He shot a mocking glance at the thuggish men just inside the doors. "_You_ are blessedly free of decoration."

He took a moment to study her face. It was long enough to possibly have another intention, but not long enough to cause an affront. Sakura glanced involuntarily at the thin scar on his cheek.

He touched two fingers to the spot, just below his eye.

"Ah, so you've noticed," he lamented good-naturedly. "Nothing so daring, I assure you. A quarrel with a friend in my youth, and I still bear the mark."

Sakura thought he probably knew very well how appealing it looked, the handsome politician with the dashing scar. It certainly set him apart from the other well-dressed men.

The gong sounded again, signaling the return to the meeting.

"Come, we both have duties to return to."

The "big fish" clan turned up the path before them. Flashing her a last bright smile, the politician hurried through the door, speaking congenially to some of their elegant guests.

Returning to her spot in the large hall, Sakura flattened her feet, let her muscles go soft and breathed deeply through her nose. It was the most relaxed her body could get while standing, but it helped her endure the position. And when the meeting finally got underway, she set to her task of cataloging the occupants of the room and everything she knew about them.

Hours later, as they were exiting, Sakura happened to pass the politician again. He made some small talk about the beautiful weather, the cool, fragrant air.

Sakura barely heard him. The excitement of the evening to come was nearly buzzing in her ears.

"It will be a lovely night for blossom viewing."

"Oh, yes," she said, smiling to herself.

The politician didn't miss it.

"Have a nice time, then," he said softly. "Perhaps we will see each other."

She was saved from responding by the appearance of her unyielding diplomat. He dismissed Sakura outright. But he held up a hand to the politician. "I would detain you for a moment," he said quietly.

"Certainly," the politician said smoothly. "Perhaps you would care to take in the grounds?" He slid back the screens and they crossed over the porch together. Sakura watched the politician's handsome face in profile, giving all his attention to the demanding clansmen.

Better him than me, she thought, turning on her heel.

* * *

Sakura's excitement was full blown as she stepped away from the round gate of the old samurai home. The blue sky was waning, but the cherry trees still kept their daylight blush. Sakura breathed in the smells, listened to the laughter. It was such a relief after the hours in the stifling meeting hall. People walked around her, bustling, talking and admiring. Petals fell like rain, hanging weightless in the air. It seemed like a dream. Like the whole village was caught up in one of the glorious swirling balls sold at the merchants' booths.

Darkness slowly descended, the lanterns were lit, painting the pale blossoms in the rouged reds of the night before. Sakura knew she had one more job to do before she could find him.

She stopped at a wall of garish faces. Fierce men, pale women, frowning gods and comical animals all stared back at her with empty eyes. Sakura studied the masks. She really didn't want to look at or like any of them, and none seemed to suit him. But at the end of a row of kittens with pink bows, were a handful of kitsune masks.

The prankster. Those would do.

Her hand hovered over a set of fox faces, glossy black with blood red flames swirling out at the edges, but she decided they looked too menacing. This night was to be fun. She kept going, past a more docile brown pair, to a set of sleek white fox faces. Gold arches accentuated the nose and eyes, and playful red whiskers streaked up the sides. Perfect.

She unhooked them and quickly paid.

Red laces tangling together, the masks gently bumped her leg as she walked. Sakura passed down the long lanes beside the canals, ducking under frothy pink branches and sweeping pale petals out of her hair. When the crowds began to ebb, she knew she was nearing the residential area where she met him last night.

Her excitement mounted the closer she got to the alleyway. But turning the dark corner extinguished her anticipation. He wasn't there.

Moving deeper down the narrow lane, Sakura slipped the cloak from her hip pack and snapped it at her neck. She found an inconspicuous spot to wait, crouched down and melted into the shadows.

She didn't intend for it to be a good hiding place, but apparently it was. Because when Katsuro came silently hopping over a nearby building, dropping to the road with a muffled thud, he never even saw her.

He headed toward the main road, movements tight, footsteps deadly quiet. Sakura marveled at his stealth for a moment before rising out of the shadow.

The grinding of her heel was so subtle it barely registered to her, but he whipped around as if someone called his name, kunai flashing silver against his cloak.

"Sa-Sakura," he said breathlessly.

She smiled and closed the distance between them. He stowed his kunai.

"You should never…I thought you were…." He looked into her face seriously for a moment, then shook his head. "I-I don't know what I thought. Were you waiting long?"

"No, not long," she said warmly. "Here, I brought you something."

Katsuro reached reflexively for what she had produced from behind her back, but his hand froze suddenly. His body went rigid.

Between them, two white fox faces glowed dimly in the dark light. Their hollow, sightless eyes waiting to be filled.

Sakura untangled the laces and walked around behind him. Panicked confusion rooted Katsuro to the spot.

"Remember," she said over his shoulder, "so we can go to the festival without having to henge?"

"Oh," he gulped. "Yeah." That's right, he had agreed to this. But he had no way of knowing—

A gentle pressure weighed down one shoulder. With her other hand she smoothed down the hood of the cloak, her fingertips just grazing the exposed skin at the back of his neck. The tingling awareness that accompanied her touch set him even more on edge. He meant to turn, but she stepped closer, holding his shoulder firmly.

"Hang on," she muttered, teeth clenched on the ribbon of the other mask.

Katsuro was about to tell her no, that there was no way, that he couldn't _possibly_ wear it, when she raked her fingers through the back of his hair. His stomach tightened, like he'd been punched, but...but in a good way. He let his shoulder relax under the weight of her hand. She dragged her fingers over his hair a few quick times, smoothing out the most unruly sections.

"Don't want to tie your hair in the knot," she mumbled past the ribbon, leaning into him slightly.

Faint puffs of breath skittered across the nape of his neck. It made his breath catch. He would have been happy to stand there all night, just like that...

"Ready?"

Sakura's hands lifted off him and a black curtain dropped over the world. Gasping sharply, he squeezed his eyes shut. But there wasn't long to entertain the sickening thoughts about the mask he was wearing.

Immediately, her hands were slipping back over his hair, pulling the ribbon taut and tying it in place. Eyes closed, he was still alert to every little touch, the sweet sensations triumphing over his unease. She tightened the knot, smoothed around it, and then, when he thought she was done, she reached up and tousled the top of his head.

His eyes snapped open, and the world returned, unchanged.

Sakura walked back around, inspecting his face. "Very handsome. Can you do me?" Turning away, she held her mask up over her shoulder.

Katsuro stared at the ghostly fox face, held even with her soft, pink hair.

He swallowed thickly. _Too far in to back out now. _

But the reward for going through with this was right in front of him. He took the mask.

With his other hand, he slowly gathered the length of her hair, letting it fall in waves down the back of her neck. He smoothed down the sides as best as he could, feeling suddenly clumsy.

Her hair was soft and cool, just like he remembered it from so long ago. He had wanted to touch it on many occasions since then, but he'd always held back. Now, though, he had an excuse.

He let her hair slide over his fingers, admiring the sleek texture, marveling at how the color picked up the light, even in the dim lane.

Katsuro didn't think he'd tarried too long, but when she turned her face slightly, he caught a knowing smile on her profile.

"Sorry," he said hastily, and slipped the mask over her head.

She turned to him, all pink hair and fox face. Katsuro couldn't shake the feeling he was trapped in a nightmare.

But her green eyes smiled up at him through the mask. "We're going to have a great time, you'll see."

Sakura busied herself, adjusting her hood, pulling it far out over her face, completely enshrouding her hair in darkness. She fidgeted with the edges of the hood for several moments more before resolutely dropping her hands to her sides.

Then, while Katsuro was still fighting the vertigo of really having to go through with this, she stuck one pale hand out into the darkness between them. Palm open.

He glanced at her face, the mocking kitsune mask. But her eyes were there too. Wide and searching, her gaze hopeful.

He didn't know what he was doing anymore. Everything seemed to be going wrong. But then here _she_ was. Standing in the middle, bridging the gap. Making the difference. And suddenly, accepting her, and whatever it was she was offering, seemed right.

Slowly, he slipped his hand into hers. He'd go. He'd go with her, and he'd see this thing she wanted him to see. And he wouldn't look at her mask. Only her eyes.

She squeezed his hand, and he remembered to breath. She squeezed again.

"Your hood," she said expectantly.

"Oh, yeah." He flipped it forward with his other hand. "Okay?"

Sakura nodded. She took the first step and they headed down the lane toward the canal.

Something of self-doubt must have crept in, because when they were almost out of the darkness she whispered apologetically, "I know it's not as safe as last fall in the country, when there was no one around, but I'll keep close watch. And hopefully," her voice lingered over the last words, her hand tightened a fraction, revealing her thoughts, "you'll enjoy it here too."

Under the mask, he smiled, finally remembering who he was when he was with her.

He shifted his palm, interlacing his fingers with her and squeezed her hand back. "I _know_ I will."

Sakura looked up at him, and was glad to see the crinkle at the corner of his eyes had returned. He was smiling. She grinned back brightly, and they left the dark lane.

The festival was a sight to behold, and Katsuro was duly impressed…after he got over the initial shock of wandering around in the disguise. But what she said was true: There were so many people donning all manner of masks, they blended right in. No one gave them a second look.

Though he didn't feel as free as Sakura, her eyes dancing across the scenery without reserve, he did feel safe enough to enjoy himself.

Katsuro marveled at the petals, falling like snow around them. He let her tug him this way and that, feasting their eyes on all the pleasant distractions of a village festival. Her touch alway gentle, leading him from merchant stalls to street performers. Pointing out her favorites or relating little stories. The sweet chime of her laughter threading through all the little scenes.

Katsuro quietly took it all in. The riot of sights and sounds, the colorful crowds, all drawn to the frisson of blossom viewing. And with her disguises, they were just two more local youths, masked faces and streaming cloaks, hurrying down the petal-strewn lanes.

The cherry trees _were_ beautiful, she was right, but they took second place to just being with her. Simply carving out a little more time. He sighed, trying to shake the burden of his thoughts. For this small moment, everything was alright.

He glanced around, checking the rooftops as he'd done almost habitually since he arrived earlier a few hours before. But still nothing was amiss. He turned back to Sakura, glad she hadn't noticed his distraction.

Her gaze was fixed ahead on an old stone lantern erected near an old gnarled cherry tree. She suddenly stepped off the lane to get a closer look.

Bending casually to inspect the relic, Sakura ran her fingers over the lines carved in the pedestal detailing it's history. Even Katsuro stopped on the path, looking to see what had captured her attention.

But beyond the lantern, Sakura had noticed something far more important. Coming up the lane was a group of well dressed men and women. Sakura recognized a few of them from the meeting.

Face tipped down, she peered straight out over the curled top of the lantern. From the protective cover of the mask her eyes darted over the scene, committing their faces to memory. She'd go over her notes later to see if she could find connections.

A gap in the group gave Sakura a clear view of another familiar face. The handsome politician from the meeting was in the middle, all broad smiles, entertaining a few of the more elegant clan women that flanked him.

He threw his head back with a laugh, and Sakura inwardly cringed. He was really laying it on thick.

The group was turning down another lane, heading into a very exclusive neighborhood. Sakura straightened slowly, hoping for a glimpse of their final destination.

But something snagged the politician's attention. He looked clearly in her direction. The big smile slipped.

Lagging a step behind, he tipped his head. An unmistakeable spark of recognition had dawned on his face, but his eyes shifted suddenly. At that moment, Katsuro stepped out beside her, curious to see what was so interesting about the lantern.

Acting on instinct alone, Sakura turned swiftly, blocking the politician's view of Katsuro.

Though she had a double motive — she didn't want Katsuro asking questions about her mission — she wasn't thinking of that when she moved. It was the desire to protect him, shield him from the unwanted attention he hated so much, that caused her adrenaline to spike.

But his mask was firmly in place. Even right next to him, his identity was perfectly concealed. Under her mask she blew out a low, relieved breath.

Katsuro stood, looking at her seriously. Then, suddenly, he reached out toward her face.

It was so quick and purposeful, Sakura forgot for an instant that she was wearing a mask. She expected to feel the gentle brush of his hand against her cheek. But it never came.

Instead he adjusted something at her collar, then dropped his hand back into the folds of his cloak.

Sakura stood watching him, puzzling over the soft gesture, until he said awkwardly, "Your hair was showing."

A lone curl of pink hair had worked its way out of the hood. The disguise made it impossible to feel.

"Oh, it was?" she said, finding the offending lock and pushing it back even further.

Under the mask, her face fell to a sudden frown. She glanced back at the spot where the group was walking, but it was deserted. Turning a little more, she scanned down the side road. The group, ambling slowly, was just turning out of sight. She caught a glimpse of the politician's cream silks as they disappeared.

"Something wrong?"

"No. N-nothing," she said. "Come on, let's keep going," she rejoined brightly.

Katsuro frowned slightly, but said nothing.

They walked away from the center of the festival, leaving the bustle and crowded lanes behind them. The crowds thinned and the noise quieted. Around them people strolled pleasantly, many in close conversation.

Having something to compare it with now, Katsuro decided he preferred her solitary missions to this village one. Out there, beyond those walls, they were able enjoy each other's company without reserve. But here, it seemed, there were things weighing on both of them.

He cleared his throat, falling back to the topics he had loved to hear about the season before. "So, how is everything? Have you trained a lot, learned new things?"

She smiled. "No, not so much. More work than anything. When I go on missions, I have to sacrifice my hospital shifts. So I had a lot of hours to make up."

"Hmm."

Talk turned to her village, her life, and the little mundane things that moved her days along. For Katsuro, it was hard to remember that the things that made up her life also resided in the village he hated. But he listened quietly.

Ahead of them a drama was playing out beside one of the shops. Several kids were huddled in an alley, waiting for the sharp-eyed shopkeeper to turn his back.

Sakura continued speaking, but both their attention was drawn to the scene.

The kids were young, rough-edged and a little lean. They were clearly eyeing one of the box of wares displayed outside the store. They were just creeping into the open to steal some of the colorful knick-knacks when the store owner spotted them. Wheeling around, he swung a meaty fist, aiming to catch one of the little thieves. And one kid wasn't fast enough. He snatched the kid's collar and hauled him back.

Sakura fell silent. Both slowed their pace, keenly aware of the situation. The shopkeeper's face flushed with anger, his smoothed hair flying out in anger. He growled threats at the cringing kid, and just when he looked like he might let the kid have it — when Sakura and Katsuro knew without discussion they would certainly intervene — an elegant couple stepped toward the storefront, inspecting his wares at the opposite corner.

The man's demeanor changed instantly. He dropped the boy, smoothed back his hair and turned fluidly. He was all smiles and wide gestures, inviting them to anything he had.

The kid seized his opportunity: Before scrambling back down the alley, he grabbed as much as his hands could carry, the other street urchins lunging forward out of the shadows to help him.

By the time Katsuro and Sakura came even with the shop, the kids had disappeared down the alley.

She shook her head, letting her eyes drift to the gorgeous waterway. "This village is different from mine. It's much wealthier, and much more beautiful. But things like that…." She tipped her hand back to the store behind them, frowning. "Those kids may have been up to no good, but no one would hurt a child. Especially ones that looked like they were in need. But...I suppose that's the nature of a merchant village over a shinobi one. We live by a different code—"

"All villages are the same to me." Katsuro said quietly, stopping himself from letting his real thoughts spill over. "You just don't see it."

Sakura smiled softly, undaunted. "You would like it there. I know you would."

He ignored her completely. "So, how are your friends?"

If he was hoping for a recounting the stories she used to tell, the familiar characters that made up her world, then he was bound to be disappointed. She only touched on the ones he remembered. This time, someone else was foremost in her thoughts.

"It's hard being part of a team when you are constantly having your feet knocked out from underneath you."

He shot her a questioning look.

"Not, literally. But we're always passed over for big missions." Katsuro watched her, waiting for her to continue. He hated to admit he was curious.

"In Konoha, you get ranked on your missions. I'd like to try for some higher ones, but I need to be part of a team." She shrugged.

"Why are you passed over?"

"One is always out, and the other," she fidgeted with the edge of her cloak, "well, he doesn't make anything easy."

Katsuro was silent, his full attention was focused on her. Now, he desperately hoped she would continue. The little fire sparked by her talk of the village was only fueled by the mention of Sasuke. He wanted to know about him, wanted more reason to hate him. And it had nothing to do with Itachi.

But when she didn't elaborate, he continued nonchalantly.

"He seems to be a real jerk. I'm surprised they put him with anyone at all."

She was silent for a moment. "Well the council has to, you see," she said haltingly. "He's still part of a clan, even though…." She glanced nervously at Katsuro. But Katsuro looked back with clear-eyed understanding, nodding for her to continue. She cleared her throat.

"He's a talented nin. So the council has to accept him. But they treat him differently." She shook her head at the recollection. "They hold him back, keep him…locked away. Like he's some kind of secret weapon."

Her laughter bubbled up at the thought, but Katsuro barely heard it. Instead he scowled deeply. He was suddenly glad to have the mask on.

"Well, he _is_ a jerk. He could make things easier." Her voice thinned. "But I think his life must be hard, no matter how much power he has." She shrugged, done with the subject.

It was the most she'd ever spoken about Sasuke. And now he wished she hadn't said anything at all.

Itachi was nearly taunting when he said Sasuke was his "hurdle." Katsuro was familiar with the tug of rivalry. But this new fiery feeling at her kind words towards him was entirely different. He hated Sasuke. And he liked it a hell of a lot better when Sakura hated him too.

A familiar dark chakra pulsed with his anger. He blew out a low breath. He needed to get everything back under control….

They walked in silence down the emptying lanes, until they were nearly to the wall.

Sakura realized as they walked that reminiscing about her village, her life, suddenly seemed hollow to her. Katsuro was still on the outside. And for no good reason. She let her thoughts wander to how different everything would be if Katsuro was there. She had spoken about it before, but never directly asked him.

Yet it occurred to her that if she didn't speak to him now, she might not get another chance. There was only one more mission coming up. If she didn't have another assigned before that mission, then any hoping of arranging a meeting would be impossible. She formed a desperate resolution: She should ask him. But with his aversion to villages, she'd have to convince him. What should she say?

Katsuro was mired in his own thoughts. The sight of the wall meant that they'd reached the end. This was it. He'd been running away from it all night. But now he knew he had to—

"Katsuro, you know…" She slid her mask off. "I don't want this to…. I mean, I want you to know…how much…."

She couldn't find the words. But her sweet thoughts were like magic to him. He pulled off the mask.

"I like doing things with you. And I don't know how many more missions I have coming up." Her eyes were big, her face was clear and focused on him. "In three weeks I deliver a scroll to the clan who hired me, but then that's it.

"I-I don't know when I'll see you again after that."

"Sakura-chan…." He stepped closer. She reached automatically to take the mask from his hand, hooking her fingers around the red laces. But instead of releasing the mask he caught her fingers, slipping his hand around hers and not letting go.

Every trouble he'd had over the last few days slipped away. Just looking at her face, knowing the he was the object she wanted to see above all others, was an amazing gift. How could he not want to bask in it just a little longer? She had no idea what she meant to him.

Sakura watched his eyes, looking over her face. He closed the space between them. That familiar warm swirling air returned. It circled tenderly up her throat, slipped gently over the contours of her face. It seemed to correspond with the intense look he had, something fiery and warm. She knew now, without a doubt, that strange, wonderful little breeze came from him.

She breathed it in, then bit her lip against the yearning sensation that swelled within her. The movement did not go unnoticed, and Katsuro dropped his gaze to her mouth, tipping his head ever so slightly.

She could practically feel the warmth pouring off him. He smiled into her face. The hair at her neck fluttered up in the teasing wind, dislodging the curl she had tucked behind her ear. Katsuro lifted his hand between them as if to tuck the errant lock back into place.

Feeling suddenly hot, deliciously nervous about what was to come next, she mumbled something playful to break the tension.

"You and your little wind thing," she said, glancing shyly away, even as her skin tingled for his touch.

But the gentle caress never came. She looked back. His hand was frozen between them, his eyes, wide and somehow hard.

"I told you, there's _no_ wind thing."

He pulled his hand away. Her hair fell flat and cold against her collarbone. Sakura watched in confusion as he stepped back, retreating into himself. He turned away from her.

"Katsuro…is something wrong?" she said to the stiff line of his back.

He stopped, fist balled at his side.

She didn't wait for an answer. Instead she dashed around in front of him, grasping his arm through his cloak. Sakura looked into his face, noticing for the first time the shadows under his eyes. But he wouldn't look at her.

"I have to go," he said, voice tight. "And I can't—"

"Wait. I want to see you again before I leave."

He finally turned to her, taking in her whole face.

"Sakura, I…I…."

She hadn't put a name to her growing attachment to him. But she knew now these feelings ran much deeper than she had admitted to herself. She drew a calming breath. Plenty of time to explore these feelings later, she told herself, if only she could convince him. But first she needed to make a plan.

"Please," she pressed. "I-I just want to see you again. Will you come back?"

He rubbed a hand over his face, clearly wrestling with the decision. Finally, he sighed.

"Yeah. I'll come. But it will be late."

Sakura was pleased, relieved, but she still studied him with a measure of concern.

He couldn't take it. He looked away, shrugging a shoulder. "Places like this," he muttered, "make me jumpy."

Satisfied with this explanation of his behavior, she nodded and let go of his arm. "See you tomorrow night, then" she said, beaming. With a flicker of a smile, he was gone.

Walking back to the inn, Sakura felt as weightless as the blossoms around her. She trailed her fingers along the lowest branches, laughing quietly to herself as the petals streamed down.

Thankfully her village was nothing like this one. Otherwise it might have been a problem. But now knowing exactly how he felt, she was glad she hadn't blurted out her request tonight. She'd need to convince him how much different Konoha was from this merchant town. Then, once she'd laid out her case, she would ask him to come home with her.

She couldn't wait. Kicking up a swirl of petals, she crossed the arched bridge and headed towards the inn.

* * *

Author's notes

At long last…. So so sorry I've fallen behind in my posting schedule. RL is quite busy right now, and I've written every chance I've had, but it just has been drops in the bucket here and there. So to get this chapter up sooner, I split it up at a natural breaking place.

Thankyou Kiriban for 500 reviews — so the poll is still up but it looks like most people favor the fluffy N/S moment with the clones. Which is good — it's one of my favorite scenes! So, instead of tracking down the 500th reviewer, I think I'll just post the preview after the 500 mark. And, like I said, it will be a preview of _Naruto_ and Sakura, from after he returns to the village. Just my way of saying thank you for all the support.

Thanks so, so, so much for all the reviews. I haven't had time to individually respond, so I'll do my best here. For all the steady readers — you know who you are! (tys especially to…anonaruto, noheartx, ia3, rise against, linkoot, animemistress, piperjulian, nxkris, kungfu, jho, joele, narudeeds, sltora, winterknight, luvtoshi, sammy holzbein, kimiss, chaotic serenity) — and for the new ones too. I appreciate the time you take for the thoughtful reviews. They keep me going. Witchymage, yours especially, dear!

happy everyday life, Amanthya, OhNoaBear, and Dreamer's Ink, so glad your enjoying it! - As for the M rating, yes, it's specifically for stuff down the road. But it's blanket coverage for anything else I throw in along the way: graphic violence, bloodshed, brutality, language and sex.

More in depth author's notes at swirlingpetals (click the link on my bio), and please read and review!

* * *

Chapter notes:

• The inspiration for the trade village is an amalgamation of Japanese destinations, including the Philosopher's Walk in Kyoto…. In writing these destinations, I think of what I want to write, how I want it to look, then I do a bit of research to make sure my ideas are in keeping with places that really exist. I haven't been to Japan (hope to, someday), but it helps that I go to the cherry blossom festival in Washington D.C. every year though. It really is magical.

• Another thing, in writing this I've tried to stay away from cliches, looking for different perspectives to keep thing interesting. So instead of setting the drama beneath the cheery cherry blossoms, I've set it at night when the carnival feeling pervades.

• _Sakura turned to see a girl, not much older than herself, dressed in a sumptuously layered kimono. She laughed again as another stream of blossoms rained down around her. The young man accompanying her had jostled a branch just to watch her reaction. _— This little moment represents a normal boy-girl relationship, and it's a little bit of a window into what Sakura hopes to have with Katsuro. It corresponds to the last lines of the chapter: _Walking back to the inn, Sakura felt as weightless as the blossoms around her. She trailed her fingers along the lowest branches, laughing quietly to herself as the petals streamed down._ In the end, Sakura is creating the moment for herself, happy to be moving towards something more permanent with Katsuro. I'll leave it to you to decide if she's on the right track or not…. :)

• Samurai home based loosely on the historic Aoyagi House and Ishigoru House. Though the surroundings are based on my ideas of ancient Japan, their mannerisms are not. So, I hope that I've made it clear that Sakura is more modern kunoichi in a traditional world, and the many characters in this chapter make up all aspects of that spectrum.

• _He cocked his eyebrow, looking even more roguishly handsome._ — The charming politician enjoys the scar, lends hims a distinction. The scar and description is meant to contrast with Katsuro, a true rogue, who comes on the scene exhausted and travel-worn and only interested in seeing her.

• A nightingale floor — true thing and so cool! Just had to write about it. Called an uguisu-bari corridor, there is one at the Nijo Castle in Kyoto. Do a google search for images and sound clips of the nightingale floor in action.

• _A throng of men strolled up the lane, turning to cross the bridge. They were well dressed, in sleek, dark kimonos. Sakura thought she recognized one from the meeting and looked at him full in the face to be sure. It was not him, but her searching gaze did not go unnoticed, and as they passed the men all looked in her direction. A few even deigned to nod at her._ — So this is not ever mentioned in the manga, but I believe that a kunoichi would draw some attention wherever she is. Especially a beautiful one like Sakura. Sometimes it's innocent interest, as here, and sometimes it's more open admiration, like with the charming politician. This leads her right to watching the courtesan use her charms to get what she needs. And this is another element of a kunoichi that I think is left out a lot: using her feminine wiles. So again, aiming for interesting aspects about Sakura that are not often covered.

• _Katsuro took one, long look at her. Standing in the darkness, smiling brilliantly, she'd worked it all out. Taken into account his situation, allayed his fears. How could he say no? Her eyes glittered. She rocked once on the balls of her feet._ — Ah. We've come full circle. This statement is paraphrases Katsuro's words to her in Ch. 20, Sakura's Mission, when he was working to convince her to meet up with him. (From Ch. 20: _But Sakura didn't need persuading. He had already addressed her concerns, allayed her fears._) So their positions are flipped. Sakura is the one persuading while Katsuro is the one holding back.

• _But at the end of a row of kittens with pink bows, were a handful of kitsune masks._ — lol, hello kitty masks, if it wasn't completely obvious.

• The kitsune masks — _Her hand hovered over a set of fox faces, glossy black with blood red flames swirling out at the edges, but she decided they looked too menacing. This night was to be fun. She kept going, past a more docile brown pair, to a set of sleek white fox faces. Gold arches accentuated the nose and eyes, and playful red whiskers streaked up the sides. Perfect._ — These masks actually are real. You can see these (in the japanese-inspired folder) and more of the breathtakingly beautiful masks created by merimask on deviantart dot com.

• _Red laces tangling together, the masks gently bumped her leg as she walked. _— red thread of fate. Poor things, theirs is tangled.

• _Her gaze was fixed ahead on an old stone lantern erected near an old gnarled cherry tree._ — Based on the lovely old stone lantern under the cherry trees at the Tidal Basin in D.C.

• _But this new fiery feeling at her kind words towards him was entirely different. He hated Sasuke. And he liked it a hell of a lot better when Sakura hated him too._— Katsuro's first taste of jealousy.

• _She knew now, without a doubt, that strange, wonderful little breeze came from him. _— again, coming full circle. And that wind thing has been there from nearly the beginning.

• _"Please," she pressed. "I-I just want to see you again. Will you come back?"_ — Sakura uses Katsuro's very words in asking him to return. From Ch. 18, Whole: _Desperation seeped into his voice. I-I just want to see you again," he said softly._

• _Under the mask, he smiled, finally remembering who he was when he was with her._ — I think this sentence could be a subtitle for the whole story. He's still sorting out who he is. And he likes the one he is with her the best.

• _Ahead of them a drama was playing out beside one of the shops. Several kids were huddled in an alley, waiting for the sharp-eyed shopkeeper to turn his back._ — The young kids stealing from the shop owner scene is set up to contrast with the kids from Ch. 20, Sakura's Mission. The kids in that chapter/town were in need; the kids in this village are just stealing. The innkeeper cared before; the shopkeeper here clearly hates these kids. Again, bringing things full circle. Reinforcing the differences, the passage of time and Sakura's hopes for the future.

• _He couldn't take it. He looked away, shrugging a shoulder. "Places like this," he muttered, "make me jumpy."_ — So, if you remember from the last chapter with Itachi, Katsuro's glancing away, shrugging a shoulder, is a tell that he is lying.

• Finally I've laid down some clues that will continue to play out in the next chapter, but you're welcome to speculate as to what's going on. This chapter touches on more of the diplomatic wars waged. Next will be a little more physical (more focus on what's been troubling Katsuro). Fair warning: Things will continue to get bumpy from here on out.


	26. Special Sneak Preview

Chapter 26: Special Sneak Preview

_Author's note: This chapter is a preview from several chapters ahead in this story's timeline. It contains several characters that have not made an appearance yet — including the one you've been waiting for! It's my way of saying thank you for 500+ reviews! So, I hope you enjoy!_

The green light at the edge of her hands flickered ominously. With a deep, steadying breath, Sakura pulled out even more energy and forced it around her hands. It worked. The glow of chakra returned.

The ragged wound on the young nin's shoulder wasn't healing as nicely as she'd like, but it would have to do. These skirmishes were coming so quick these days, they barely had time to heal from their losses before responding to another desperate plea for help. And Sakura had been moving with them, healing everyone who needed it. Reinforcements were coming, but not fast enough.

She helped the teen to his feet. Though he was not yet a chunin, he was capable enough. Sakura well remembered being that age. It was only five years ago, but it might as well have been a lifetime. But, this kid was strong too. As she had been. He'd live to fight many more battles. With a tight nod, the youth headed off with his waiting team.

A branch cracked in the woods behind her. She turned quickly — too quickly — and stopped with a little wobble. Chakra exhaustion. Shit. And there would certainly be more to heal.

Familiar faces appeared, dirty and blood smeared. Neji, Kiba. Lee. A handful of chunins from the years after her. She hadn't bothered to learn their names. But it was the one in the back who made her stomach turn in knots.

Coming out of the forest shadows, his cold blue eyes fixed her with a serious gaze. She never trusted the way they seemed to reflect the light in even the darkest places. Or how he always seemed to look at her as if he was looking for something to be revealed. Like a weakness. She realized he must have seen her sway momentarily.

Damn him. Sakura jerked her head sharply to the injured. She pointedly ignored _him_ — he was probably hoping to unnerve her by still watching — and bent to start on the worst of the new wounds.

She focused on her task, eyes filling with the green glow from her hands, but her mind wandered as it always did when he was around.

"Naruto," her mind whispered above the buzz of chakra and rote healing techniques.

She knew nothing about him. She could never trust him like the rest of her compatriots had grown to. Nor could she accept him so easily as Tsunade had. A long-lost Leaf nin miraculously returned to the fold? She doubted it.

Sakura knew she would never trust anyone who had any association with Itachi. And as such, she would never trust Naruto. And he must have understood it too. Because he watched her so closely.

She sat back, letting one nin get up and another take his place. Wiping her brow, she glanced to her hand. Trembling. Four or five more injuries then she'd have no choice but to stop. She could only pray there would be no more incoming wounds.

A quick glance around showed her only a few more in need of serious treatment. Blue eyes snagged hers. He had noticed her shaky hands. His brows wrinkled with concern.

Sakura's face burned with anger. She certainly didn't need his pity either! She'd seen a hell of a lot worse than some minor chakra depletion.

She worked furiously over the next wounds, healing at surprisingly fast clip, given the amount of time she'd already been at work. But her racing thoughts spurred her on.

She would rather have him acting like the enemy she knew he had to be, than someone who cared one jot about her. He was a mystery. And just when she thought she'd nailed him down as a spy on a secret mission, he would show some other side that had her rethinking what she knew. She wanted to believe in Tsunade. And sometimes that look in his eyes…well she couldn't deny that sometimes it went right through her. Like he really was reading her thoughts, searching out her secrets. And that made her even angrier. Not even Sasuke made her feel that way. Not even— She shook her head, banishing the stray thought. She promised herself never to think about the past.

Naruto unnerved her. And she hated it.

Last patient healed, Sakura stood swiftly. She needed to put some space between herself and the object of her most troubling thoughts. But the quick movement sent her reeling. She took two steps and reached for a tree, flattening her palm against the bark until her equilibrium returned. She desperately needed to rest. Cringing inwardly, she could also guess that this slip was not missed.

She squeezed her eyes shut, shaking her head lightly.

"You need to rest," a serious voice sounded beside her bowed head.

Cracking open her eyes, she saw that look that made her furious. Concern.

Naruto leaned close to her, studying her face. His eyes held that pale glow they always did, but his blond hair was dimmed with the grime of hard battle. Blood was dried in thick clumps at his neck, a testament to some hidden wound. A purple bruise was blossoming along his jawline.

He raised a hand her shoulder, intent on helping her, when Sakura noticed the bloody bandages around his hand.

Defiantly, Sakura summoned all her strength and pushed off the tree before he could reach her. "And _you_ still need to be healed."

His face closed off to her, but he didn't step back. They both knew what he'd say. They'd been through this before. It was another reason she refused to trust him.

He shook his head slowly, never breaking eye contact. "I don't need to be healed."

Something in Sakura snapped. Feelings, pent up for so long, bubbled to the surface. Tears burned at the corners of her eyes.

"Why? Why won't you let me—" she demanded, but her voice cracked at the end. She was mad at him and herself now.

If she couldn't control her damn emotions, then she certainly wouldn't give him that satisfaction of seeing this momentary weakness. She moved to sidestep him, but she swayed dangerously.

Naruto seemed to be expecting it. He stepped with her, ready to catch her if she dropped. She tried to push him away, but the swipe of her hand nearly knocked her off balance. She grabbed his arm involuntarily.

Naruto was unfazed. He had already unfastened his cloak, and in the moment she steadied herself he wrapped it around her shoulders. Sakura felt the weight of impending defeat: She knew she was truly exhausted. But she wasn't going to give in yet.

She tried to shrug off the cloak. "Don't…. Don't—" she bit out. The little flare of anger finally giving her control over her emotions.

But Naruto continued undaunted. He slipped the cloak under her hands, edging it closer around her neck, while gently propelling her toward a soft patch of moss at the base of a large tree.

"You're exhausted, and I—"

"Don't try to be nice to me," she said, determined to hurl her last bit of energy at him. "If you won't let me heal you, then why should I accept this?" She tugged hopelessly at the cloak which was already fastened at her neck. The weariness was seeping into her bones. She would never admit it to him, but sleep was exactly what she needed.

He seemed to understand anyway. He pointed to he cool spot and, wrapping an arm around her shoulders, helped her down steadily. Sakura was simply too tired to fight.

She settled on her side, the moss surprisingly soft under the cloak. She breathed deeply, her muscles and joints relaxing.

Naruto tucked the cloak around her legs, her arms, her neck. When she was settled, he brushed the hair back out of her face.

Though he knew he shouldn't, he let his hand linger in her hair. He leaned closer to her ear.

"I have a lot of chakra, and I just don't need to be healed. Don't waste your energy on me," he said softly. "Trust me, Sakura. It's my loss, not yours."

She turned suddenly at his words and looked up into his face. He moved back only a little, his hand still loosely cupping her head. Their faces were very close.

Sakura studied him openly. He was a mystery to her. Part of her wanted to hate him, just for choosing Itachi. But she couldn't deny that part of her wanted to trust him, to see him the way Tsunade and Kakashi did. She wondered sometimes what it would be like if she had met him under different circumstances.

If they had just been two shinobi, growing up together in Konoha. Her eyes roved over him. The sunny blond hair, always falling over his forehead. The grey-blue in his eyes, that only revealed itself in the right light.

Would she know him by heart, like she knew Sasuke and Sai? Then, would she be able to read his expressions and decipher his thoughts? Because it did seem like there was always something going on beneath surface. Especially when he looked at her the way he did now. As if he was searching for something. It was a troubling familiarity.

But that was the trouble. She didn't know anything about him. He may be a Leaf nin, but she hadn't grown up with him. And she absolutely could not trust him. She'd learned that lesson long ago.

Naruto's hand had stilled in her hair. He openly studied her, eyes lingering over her face, her cheeks, her mouth….

But the thin puff of breath hinted at the direction of his thoughts. Sakura felt the pulse of air on her lips. Her stomach went tight, and her mouth tingled traitorously.

_No, no, no. She didn't want this. Anything but this._

She tipped her chin down just a fraction, away from him.

'Please don't, please don't,' her mind chanted desperately.

And, almost as if he'd heard her, his open expression closed. The fingers slide out of her hair, and he sat back against the tree.

"Get some sleep," he said quietly. "I'll keep watch."

Sakura wished she didn't feel the quickening of her pulse, the tightness in her gut, or the ridiculous sense of disappointment when he pulled away so suddenly, leaving only the cold air to rush in where he had been. She cursed her chakra-exhausted mind. It was distorting everything around her. Making her feel things she knew she didn't. She rolled back onto her side and pulled the cloak tightly around her.

She didn't expect to rest, but detaching from all her responsibilities slowly worked its magic. The soft ground, the concealing cloak, even his persistence in remaining beside her all helped her feel safe enough to unwind. And if she was to continue to do her duty as a med-nin, then she had to find some rest in the midst of these skirmishes. He'd found her a way.

She yawned and finally gave in, making herself comfortable in the cloak, breathing in the damp woodland air. And sooner than she would have ever guessed, her view of his bent legs blurred into nothingness.

Naruto glanced down at her unmoving form, sure she was finally asleep. Leaning back against the rough tree trunk, he cursed his own weak will. This wasn't the girl he knew, and he shouldn't look for her. He promised himself he'd let her go.

But seeing her laying there wrapped up in his cloak, feeling put out because she couldn't help him, well, it was just too much. He had only wanted to reassure her, maybe even touch her. But it wasn't the same.

That day, so long ago, under the tree on a grassy hilltop, in the summer, in the sun — well, she wasn't that girl. And he, in fact, wasn't the boy he was then.

She was a hardened shinobi, like all the rest of them, exhausted and bloody, trying to catch a few hours of sleep before she would have to do it all again. And there were no clouds in her eyes.

He let his head tip back against the tree. It didn't matter anyway, he lied to himself.

A annoying buzzing sound kept winging past her face. Sakura groggily batted at it, but it she only succeeded in knocking back the dark fabric which had blocked out the morning light. She blinked into the sudden glare, disoriented for a moment.

Panic set in. She had slept more than a few hours. Where was everyone? Where was Naruto?

Shino's quiet voice preceded the crunch of his footsteps.

"Ah, you're awake. Good. We'll be moving soon."

Sakura propped herself up, rubbed her eyes, her irritation growing as the scenario became clear.

"Naruto asked me to keep an eye on you," he said flatly.

Now_ that_ pissed her off. She knew she shouldn't have trusted his kind gesture. He must have dumped her off as soon as he could.

"So we were left behind?" she said bitterly, kicking off the cloak to stand.

"No, not exactly..." At that moment Hinata dropped into the clearing, along with a few of her shinobi clansmen.

Sakura bit her lip, understanding slowly dawning on her. Naruto had waited for the backup team, tacitly moving her to their squad to give her more time to sleep.

Well, she was still too groggy to be grateful, but it did make her feel a little better. She moved to leave the clearing with the backup squad.

"Sakura-san," Hinata said politely. "You forgot your cloak." She pointed behind her, at the pile of dark fabric on the flattened moss.

"Oh. Yeah." It was her cloak now, wasn't it? She scooped it up and shoved it into her pack, ignoring her troubled feelings about the cloak's real owner. She'd sort it out when she rejoined them.

Sakura pushed on with the back-up team, securing the areas behind the forward squad, but she did not see Naruto again that day, or the next.

* * *

Sakura picked up the perfectly folded cloak. It had spent the better part of a week on the corner of her table, laying there in all it's blackness. Reminding her of that night, and him.

She needed to return it. And she knew, deep down, she needed to thank him. If she had not slept on that mission, then she would have been useless or worse. The inability to perform her duty might have cost a life.

So why couldn't she bring herself to feel truly grateful? If it were anyone else, she knew she would.

Sakura plunked the cloak back down, resolve slipping. Maybe she could put off another day….

She dropped her hands to her hips, looking at the rumpled pile of fabric. She wished she felt normal about him, like everyone else apparently did. Truthfully, she wished she could just forget about him, never thinking of him until he was right in front of her. Like every other shinobi she knew. But Naruto plagued her thoughts.

Sasuke was the one who first brought her attention to it. And then she'd just chalked it up to some inflated rivalry.

"Naruto has an uncanny sense about you, you know. Like he is connect to you," Sasuke said cooly, watching her face. Sakura just rolled her eyes. But he persisted. "Do you know, I no longer have to look for you when we're all summoned. I can find you by where _he_ is standing."

Sakura just laughed. "You're ridiculous, you know that?"

But Sasuke's face was blank mask, still waiting for her response. He cocked an eyebrow, as if her silence meant she was hiding something.

"Don't look at me like that! You know I don't want to have anything to do with him. And I don't know why anyone else does either," she grumbled. Her teammate finally smiled, his dark eyes glinting, pleased that they were still in agreement.

But Sasuke had cursed her with the notion. And now she was inclined to agree. It did seem like Naruto felt some connection to her. He was always around, like a boat on the water, either pulling towards her or away in response to her.

She found herself thinking about Naruto more than even Sasuke. And she certainly wouldn't tell her teammate about this latest incident.

If only she knew a little more about Naruto. Just enough to squelch her questions. To finally decide, for good, whether he was a threat or not.

And to put an end to those distracting feelings which only he seemed to bring about.

Sakura picked up the cloak again, twisting it slightly, imagining the person who wore it. She wished she could be like the cloak, go with him everywhere and learn his secrets. But she couldn't. And it was foolish and childish to stand here, daydreaming about someone's clothing.

She shook it out a little, deciding to refold it and be on her way. But the movement sent a light, woodsy fragrance up from it's rippling cloth.

Impulsively, she brought the collar up to her nose, hoping a sniff of obviously male stench would cure her of this distraction. He'd just be another stinky shinobi, like all the rest she knew.

Well, not Sasuke. But he was different in all things, she supposed.

She sniffed the collar. Yeah, it smelled like him. What did she expect? It was warm, masculine, a not-unpleasant mix of sweat and forest floor.

But it didn't turn her stomach as she had hoped. Instead, it brought back the memories of a few nights ago. In the woods, exhausted, burrowing down in the warmth of the cloak and giving over to sleep. If she were honest with herself, it reminded her of feeling safe.

Medically, she knew that scent was the strongest memory inducer. But this was ridiculous. When had she become so close to him that she could discern his smell? And assign emotions to it?

Coming to her senses, Sakura hastily folded it up. She was immensely glad that no one was there to see her, sniffing someone's cloak and obsessing over it like a school girl.

She tucked the square of fabric under her arm and set off for her errands, intent on disposing of the troublesome garment first. But she remembered she also needed to speak to him. Thank him. She took one look at the direction of his apartment and went the other way. She'd feel better about it later, she told herself, after she'd taken care of her other tasks.

But later never came. And in the early evening, everything else done, she slowly climbed the crumbling steps of his apartment building.

It was a modern building, but very run down. She bet he didn't care, though. Sakura walked slowly down the covered walkway, past the peeling doors, to the last one she knew to be his.

She knocked once. No one came. She blew out a long, low breath.

_Great. A day's worth of worrying, and he's not even here. _

Sakura was about to turn and go, more mad at herself than anything, when she heard a strange thudding noise inside. She frowned and tipped forward to listen.

Another plunking noise echoed out, like something was slammed on the floor.

"See, I told you before you're doing it wrong!" Naruto's voice raged from inside.

Sakura's eyes went wide. She held her breath and leaned closer to the door.

There was another muffled noise, another voice. Whatever had happened, it must have made Naruto furious.

"No one's supposed to know we're here, dammit! You're fucking up the whole plan!"

Sakura's mouth dropped open. She forgot about the cloak and pushed her ear against the door.

Stuff started crashing inside. Naruto was going after somebody, and it didn't sound good. But Sakura was thrilled. Maybe she'd finally discover the truth about him!

Ear smashed against the door, Sakura was listening so intently she almost didn't register another person approaching at the end of the long walk. She blinked in slow surprise.

The object of her eavesdropping was coming up the steps. Naruto had a sack of takeout boxes in one hand and was pulling his keys out with the other. He had just fanned them out and was setting his foot on the top step when he saw her.

Sakura leaned away from the door slowly. It was clear she had been listening, her shoulder was still pressed against the door, as was her hand, but she tipped her head to the side in confusion. She could still hear his voice inside.

However the Naruto in front of her seemed to instantly understand what was going on. He frowned thunderously and dashed straight for her. Sakura shot back from the door, hands up in defense. She _had_ found something out about him. What was he going to do now? Her mind switched gears: She had no weapons, and there was no where to go from here but down. She'd just have to rely on her strength to—

Instead of attacking her, however, he jammed his key in the lock and threw back the door.

Water dripped from the ceiling. Trash littered the floor; the empty basket that once held it rolled on it's side nearby.

Suddenly, from behind a futon, a fist flung through the air. A blond head reeled back, followed by a second flash of yellow hair. Then, a loud, painful "oomph."

Sakura couldn't believe what she was seeing: There, in the middle of his apartment, were two perfectly identical Narutos. In an all-out fist fight.

Directly in front of her, the newly arrived Naruto cursed. A sopping wet mop head arced over the couch. From the doorway, Sakura was actually hit with a spray of water. But it couldn't be nearly as bad as whoever was on the receiving end of that wet smack. There were angry sounds of vengeance after that one.

Naruto stomped through the doorway. Craning her neck to look past him, Sakura noticed a full bucket of water had been overturned and was slowly moving toward the door. More water was running from somewhere inside. She followed him in without invitation, moving out of sheer curiousity.

Naruto splashed across his apartment, snatching up the empty basket and overturned bucket as he went.

"I gave you a list! That's all you had to do! Just stick to the list!"

The two replicas of Naruto popped up from behind the futon, letting go of each other's collars and scrambling to standing.

"Sorry boss," one said.

"Yeah, sorry." The second one jerked his thumb at his partner. "_He_ was too busy talking, not working."

"What!" the first one shrieked, balling up his fist.

But his counterpart was only baiting him. Using the opening, he threw a punch. The other dodged it. However the momentum sent both slipping on the puddled water.

Sakura winced. She could barely watch them crash and do more damage. But the loud sound never came. Only two simultaneous popping sounds.

She opened her eyes. The lone Naruto left in the room was just dropping his hand, releasing some jutsu in the nick of time.

Scrubbing a hand over his face, he walked slowly around the futon, surveying the damage, avoiding the puddles of water in the uneven floor. He picked up a crumpled, soaked piece of paper.

"The list," he muttered, then pitched it onto the futon.

She could only see the corner, where something was written in thick black ink:

1. Be Quie—

2. Mop

_Were they…. Were they clones?_

Setting the bag of takeout down on the counter, Naruto darted across the small kitchen and turned off the water.

"More work to do now than when I left," she heard him grumble.

Sakura found her voice.

"They were clones? You had clones doing work while you went to...to _get dinner_?"

When he reappeared, he had the good grace to look a little embarrassed.

Sakura was amazed. How did he have enough chakra to make clones, then leave? And not just be around, but leave...go away. And have enough chakra to make two, then set them to menial tasks? How was it possible?

One clone was a feat. It took years of training. And the drain on the system offset any marginal usefulness. Clones were usually a desperation tactic.

"I told you, I have a lot of chakra," he said with a laugh, brushing it off.

Her eyes went wide. _That would be an understatement._

Suddenly, Naruto grabbed a dishrag and dashed around her to stop a huge puddle that threatened to spill out the door. Throwing the rag over the puddle he stepped outside, looked back and forth down the hall, then closed the door.

"Don't want anyone to know..." she said quietly.

He toed the sopping rag back toward the puddle, hoping to keep the water from spreading any further.

"Nah, the guy who owns the building is a jerk and will give Baa-chan an earful if he thinks I've flooded his place."

She nodded slowly. She forgot, Tsunade had gotten a place for him. She wondered now if they paid for it too.

Naruto seemed to recall himself.

"Hey, do you want some dinner? I just got ramen, and I know you like ramen." There was a stab of silence. "Or, at least, I heard you do."

"Who told you that?" she said with a snort.

"I don't know," he flubbed, walking back around her, mentally kicking himself. "Just heard it somewhere."

But Sakura was saved from giving him an answer. Naruto picked up the stack of boxes from another huge puddle on the countertop. The bottom box was waterlogged, and water was seeping up through the next two.

He let out a frustrated groan. Sakura couldn't help but chuckle.

"I just came by to return your cloak," she said, holding out the folded fabric which she'd nearly forgotten she'd wedged under her arm when she leaned against his door. It was warm in her hands.

"Oh yeah. I'd completely forgotten about it." He took the cloak and casually held it against his chest. But something about it drew his attention.

Without another thought, he breathed deeply the air above the folded garment.

"Smells like you," he said softly. He looked up at her, blue eyes clear and wide. It made Sakura feel transparent. The corner of his mouth tugged up into a lopsided grin.

Sakura's cheeks went suddenly hot. There was no way he could have known that she had done the same exact thing. But she felt like he knew it, just the same. That nervous tightness was returning to her gut. She had to get out of here.

Sakura turned toward the door, ready to make a hasty exit, but stopped at the sight of the watery mess.

It would be rude of her to leave. Not that she wanted to stay, but she really wanted to treat him like anyone else she knew. And if he were any other shinobi, she'd certainly offer to help clean up. Not run off in ridiculous embarrassment.

She turned back. "Uh, can I help you clean any of this up?"

"Nah," he said coming around to her. She stepped closer to the door. "I'll bring 'em back, have them clean up their mess."

She was just twisting back the door handle when she paused, remembering the mystery of his extra chakra.

Naruto hopscotched over the puddles to get beside her. He slid a hand up the doorframe, still regarding her warmly.

Sakura tried to ignore how close he was, never looking too long at the grey flecks in his eyes, and absolutely refused to breathe too deeply for fear that he would smell as woodsy and reassuring as his cloak.

"Hey, we should go out for ramen some time," Naruto said, trying to look casual, even as the water was seeping into his shoes.

Sakura glanced away, flustered by his easy directness. But she had a burst of inspiration. Maybe this could work out in her favor. A calculating smile lit up her face.

"Sure! And maybe then you could tell me about how you have all this extra chakra!"

Naruto looked stricken. His easy smile slipped, he laughed nervously. Sakura watched with smug satisfaction. She had guessed right: That was way more than he bargained for.

"Well, I don't think... I mean... That is... I, uh..."

But for Sakura, his secrecy at least returned some of her equilibrium. She couldn't trust him. At all. It didn't matter how good he smelled.

And really, she was relieved. Because if he'd agreed to tell her more, then she would have had to say yes. And the strange feelings she had toward him were nothing she wanted to develop further. She'd find another way to uncover his secrets.

"Thanks for the cloak," she said dryly, cutting off any further discussion.

Sakura opened the door. Apparently the towel trick hadn't worked. There was already quite a puddle on the landing, and more water was steadily dripping down from the doorstep.

"Yeah, sure," he said, deflated. He watched her until she disappeared down the steps. Then he closed the door. It was going to be a long night.

Naruto turned around, surveying the dripping apartment. With a swish of his hand, two identical copies popped up in front of him. Both sheepishly rubbing the backs of their necks.

"Sorry boss."

"Yeah sorry."

"We'll get right to work cleaning this up."

"Hey, she was cute."

"Yeah, is she your—"

"Just shut up and clean up this mess."

* * *

**Author's notes:**

So, I have all these future scenes just sitting on my computer, waiting to come to light. And I thought I might as well give everyone a taste of what was coming, and what better time to do it than as a thank you for 500 reviews! I am truly blown away by amazing responses. I know I say it a lot, but I'm so grateful to have people who look forward to reading this story as much as I enjoy writing it.

**Preview chapter notes:**

So posting a preview from several chapters down the line, after lots of plot twists and character development, is a tricky thing. But I think this preview can stand on it's own with minimal explanation. However, to preserve the suspense of the story, there will be some things I can touch on, and other points I simply can't.

Also, if the characterizations seem too harsh, too trusting, too…whatever…please understand that this in from the future, after lots of development that hasn't yet occurred in the main story. But hopefully the motivations behind their actions will still shine through.

_Things I can reveal: _

• So, this preview is set in the future, a few years out from the current timeline. Naruto has returned to Konoha, and Sakura doesn't trust him. And she feels completely alone in that except for Sasuke.

• Yes, there is a conflict or conflicts going on around them. It's not an all out war, but Konoha is battling on several fronts. Though it's not so overwhelming yet that all teams are required on the field at all times. Thus the battle scene, followed by the more relaxed village scene.

• Sakura has grown into a strong no-nonsense shinobi, and she has successfully bonded with her team, as seen through the little interaction with Sasuke. And Sasuke, even in this universe, harbors that latent rivalry/jealousy toward Naruto. Some things never change! lol

• Many other rookies make appearances too, and the future section of this story will focus around Konoha and it's environs. So many more familiar faces to come.

• Both Sakura and Naruto have put their pasts behind them. But only Naruto seems to be aware of his long ago connection to Sakura. Hmmm…. However they both are encountering their own struggles in reaching some common ground.

• Clones aren't truly a "desperation tactic" in the manga. But I needed to illustrate Sakura's shock here. His tactics would be unheard of. No one uses clones the way Naruto does!

• If you remember, Naruto's clones in this story are an unruly lot. He has this great power of being able to make clones, but the drawback is that each one has some little facet of his personality. And most of them, as you can see, are just dying for a good brawl. They also have short-term memory. They may not always remember who Sakura is, but you can bet that they _always_ think she's cute. Drives the real Naruto crazy too!

• Oh yeah…. This preview foreshadows an event that hasn't happened yet, but will come up in the next chapter. The bit about the ramen! So would that be a flash-forward, flashback, foreshadow! Lol!

_Things I won't be revealing:_

• What happened to Katsuro; how did Naruto get to Konoha; what changes have occurred in the lives of Sakura, Sasuke, Sai, etc; where is Itachi and the Akatsuki. Don't ask me. I'm not gonna tell ya!

Next time, back to where we left off, with Katsuro and Sakura at the cherry blossom festival. Chapter 27: The Festival, Part 2.


	27. Festival, Part 2

_From Chapter 25, Festival, Part 1_

_"Katsuro…is something wrong?" she said to the stiff line of his back._

_He stopped, fist balled at his side. _

_She didn't wait for an answer. Instead she dashed around in front of him, grasping his arm through his cloak. Sakura looked into his face, noticing for the first time the shadows under his eyes. But he wouldn't look at her._

_"I have to go," he said, voice tight. "And I can't—"_

_"Wait. I want to see you again before I leave."_

_He finally turned to her, taking in her whole face. _

_"Sakura, I…I…." _

_She hadn't put a name to her growing attachment to him. But she knew now these feelings ran much deeper than she had admitted to herself. She drew a calming breath. Plenty of time to explore these feelings later, she told herself, if only she could convince him. But first she needed to make a plan._

_"Please," she pressed. "I-I just want to see you again. Will you come back?" _

_He rubbed a hand over his face, clearly wrestling with the decision. Finally, he sighed._

_"Yeah. I'll come. But it will be late."_

_With a flicker of a smile, he was gone._

* * *

Chapter 27 - Festival, Part 2

"Dammit."

He could have said something, anything. But she wanted to see him again, and he just couldn't tell her no.

Katsuro landed hard on a branch then bounced off again. He could still hear the happy sounds from the village festival, filtering up through the darkened limbs.

Tonight was the perfect opportunity, and he blew it. He knew what he had to do, even though he hated it. And this just let him put it off one more night.

To be so easily swayed from his purpose. Itachi would say it was weak, though he didn't think so. He knew he wanted to see her more than anything else. But there were other things that gave him pause. He worried that he was putting her in danger or that somehow their friendship might be discovered. Or worse: that his own secrets were coming to light.

He raked a hand through his hair, leapt to another branch.

Tomorrow, he promised himself. He'd tell her tomorrow. This was getting too dangerous, for both of them.

Behind him, the village lights cast a dim glow in the night sky. But it wasn't hard to find the broad leafless oak against the black terrain in front of him. It's branches clawed slightly higher than all the rest.

Dropping to the base, he slipped down into the large roots. He found a familiar bent root and dug out the pile of leaves beneath it. Shaking his black cloak free, he kicked his foot into the leafy mess. A familiar clink rang out.

_That damn bag of money._ This assignment, the fact that he still had the money three days after meeting the contact, had turned out to be a real problem. However it wasn't his biggest: Katsuro rubbed a hand over his chest, trying to soothe the dull burn that had settled there.

Wrapping the cloak around him, Katsuro made sure the sack was hidden and settled back against the tree. Knees bent up, he completely disappeared among the roots, looking like a gnarled extension of the tree. He was hidden in plain sight.

Trying to sleep had proved impossible the last few nights. His mind always turned over the puzzling events. He knew it was taking a toll too. The few hours he had to sleep were shortened, and it was harder to wake up when he needed to. And, worst of all, his stress was bubbling to the surface around Sakura. It was getting harder to hold everything in.

Sleep, worry, anger — these were cracks which the demon clawed at. The sickening chakra was getting closer to the surface. Sakura had already detected his wind nature somehow. If she sensed his chakra, then it was all over.

The things she'd said tonight were horrifying. His "wind thing?" How could she have known? What did he do that gave it away? Maybe she was a wind element too, and she recognized it in him. He scrubbed a hand over his face. There were so many things he didn't know. If there had been a doubt before about what he needed to do, then this little incident alone obliterated it.

But he couldn't blame her. It wasn't her fault.

If everything had worked out like it was supposed to, then he could be enjoying his time with her. Not constantly looking over his shoulder.

He pulled the hood down over his face, folded his arms and tried to get as comfortable as he could against the unyielding tree. He should have known things would go wrong when he took on a mission dealing with brothers.

One was the contact, one was the target. But Itachi's instructions were specific: the target, the fatter, older brother and clan head, was to receive the money. The thinner, younger one was only to provide access to the elder.

And just as Katsuro expected, the younger brother was more than willing to accept the payment as the elder "was busy handling family affairs."

From the doorway the thin man sniffed disdainfully. He looked the strange nin up and down. But Katsuro didn't care. His henge was perfect. He looked every bit like the black-haired, pale-skinned Kiri rogue they'd encountered a year back. He was fairly certain hunter nins had already taken him down, but a small town contact would never know the difference. And Katsuro's appearance would throw off anyone searching for him. Namely Konoha.

Katsuro pulled the cloak back just enough to give the contact a glimpse of his village insignia. It glinted dully in the twilight. As expected, the man's eyes darted to the headband tied to his belt. Katsuro let the cloak swing closed. Now he had covered all his tracks — the deal could proceed.

Katsuro shifted his weight, letting the coins jingle in the sack for a moment.

"My instructions are to see the clan head," he said firmly.

The sibling was petulant. "As his brother, I can accept anything for him," he snapped holding out his hand.

"My arrangement is with him, and him alone."

"Ah, I see." Smoothing the stringy mustache that hung down over the corners of his mouth, the younger brother raked a lecherous gaze over Katsuro. "If you'd told me that right away I could have taken you to his _private_ chambers."

Katsuro's mouth fell open.

The brother cocked an eyebrow, smiling saucily.

That sparked a small, angry fire in Katsuro. "It's not like that, and you damn well know it," he growled. Somehow his hand had found it's way to his kunai.

"Oooo, so scary!" The brother tittered with laughter and spun around, pulling the door partially closed. "It doesn't matter," he flung back over his shoulder. "He's not here tonight. Come back tomorrow. Midday." The door snapped shut.

Katsuro was left alone on the stoop in dismay. Hand still on his kunai, he had a ridiculous urge to barge in and find the older brother. Instead he smothered his anger, turned and walked back down the lane, telling himself that forcing a bribe would defeat the purpose of his coming here at all.

He turned into the road, looking for a place to wait out the night. Whatever the goal was, whoever the target was, Katsuro knew they needed to feel special, like they were selected to help and profit. Otherwise his group's cover was blown. If these people were forced, then they could point back to who forced them. But if they made a profit, then they were happy to keep secrets. And Itachi was a master at scouting out those human weakness and using them to his advantage.

Katsuro spied a ramshackle barn at the edge of a field. Just a brown silhouette against the dusky sky, but with open land on all sides, it provide adequate shelter for the night. He could see everything from that vantage point.

Finding a stack of last season's hay bales piled against the far side, Katsuro tucked in to wait out the night. He'd sleep here, make his delivery tomorrow, then be on his way to the festival. The delay did disrupt his plans, but he should be able to make it with enough time to see her that first night. Then he'd have the next two nights free and clear. He stretched back against the stubbily straw. Even that weasel of a contact couldn't destroy his good mood this time.

But when Katsuro arrived at the gate of the complex the next day, hot and conspicuous with the noonday sun bearing down on his black garb, his hopes of a quick finish to this job were obliterated. No one was home. He rattled the gate loudly and peered around at the facade, the windows and doors, but still no one came.

Frowning, Katsuro prised open the lock with the tip of his kunai, careful not to make a scratch. The gate closed with a soft click behind him. He approached the main door slowly, but still no one came out to apprehend the dark stranger. The eerie stillness surrounding the house prickled up the hair on the back of his neck.

Stepping onto the wide porch, Katsuro flipped his kunai into reverse grip in one hand, and raised his other hand to rap loudly at the door. He was just deciding to break in if no one came, when the screen slid back in a quick snap. Standing there, head bowed, was an old woman who had just then glanced down, adjusting her basket before setting off. She looked up to find a black-clad man blocking her doorway, sharp blade in one hand, other raised in a fist.

"Oh no…. Oh no!" In sheer panic she dropped the basket and threw up her hands defensively, trying to back away from the would-be intruder.

Katsuro immediately softened his stance. "No, I…I'm not a thief! It's safe!" he said, pocketing the kunai. "I only need to deliver something to the clan elder."

The old woman, apparently a faithful family servant, accepted his explanation. She recovered from her shock enough to bow deeply, wringing her trembling hands together. Katsuro looked over her her bobbing gray-streaked bun to scan the interior. Typical clan compound, he noted, large rooms and long halls all built around a series of courtyards.

"S-Sir, the head family is out for the day," she said between gasps. "They will be back by midday tomorrow, sir. May I tell them who—"

She continued speaking and bowing, never raising her eyes. Which was fortunate for Katsuro…because the old woman never saw the slight flicker in Katsuro's henge from the fury that momentarily gripped him.

_Tomorrow? Why that little…_

"No," Katsuro bit out. "I'll come back. Tomorrow." He turned on his heel to go. "Thank you," he said over his shoulder, maintaining the polite facade only as an afterthought.

He strode quickly out of the compound, stopping when he was beyond a small rise in the road, safely out of sight of the complex. He let the henge drop. Staring unseeing across the still winter-brown fields, Katsuro worked over his options. A muscle at his jaw jumped.

If he stayed, then he'd miss Sakura. And that twit of a younger brother may put him off again. Then again, if he traveled the long hours to see her, he'd only have a few hours to catch some sleep before he had to trek back. But it could be done….

Katsuro tipped his face toward the sky, gauging the position of the sun, the distance he'd need to travel, and just how many hours it would eat up. The tightness in his expression softened at the thought of seeing her. His eyes shined blue with reflected light.

Yes, he could do it. If he traveled without stopping, he'd get there late tonight. And as long as he left before dawn, he could be back here by midday. Then he'd be done with this pain of an assignment.

Besides he needed to spend as much time with Sakura as he could. He could already feel the time slipping away from him.

This trip he'd have to tell her it was simply too dangerous to meet again. They'd managed to make it this far undetected, but with Itachi back…well, it was only a matter of time before he'd figure it out. He knew Itachi was suspicious. But there was nothing to fear yet. He had covered all their tracks.

The funny thing was, he didn't even care if Itachi discovered anything about him. He could get as angry as he wanted if he thought Katsuro had just dawdled away his hours. Alone. But if he somehow exposed Sakura to danger….

That gripping, vulnerable feeling awakened at the thought. And it moved him to decide to speak to her about it, a task which he dreaded only slightly less. He didn't want to see her look of disappointment, or fumble for answers to the questions she was sure to ask.

All of this a cast dark shadow over his time with her, before it'd even begun.

Wiping the thin sheen of sweat from his forehead, Katsuro worked stridently to push back his fears. Nothing had happened, no one knew. They were still ok. He would go to the festival and tell her, right away, that they couldn't see each other after this. Then they could get on with enjoying their time together.

Feeling better, Katsuro turned his eyes to the line of trees at the far edge of the fields. Darkened by midday shadows, the woods stretched away as far as he could see. And somewhere beyond that was the cherry blossom festival. Katsuro fixed the bag of coins securely to his waist and set off.

And, true to his plan, before the light of the next day slanted over the horizon, Katsuro was already treading back over the same deserted woodlands. His travel wasn't nearly as expeditious as it had been the night before, when he was moving swiftly toward _her_.

Now the going was slow. His legs felt heavier and he was tired from the extra hours of travel. But he didn't begrudge a single step. Meeting her had been the right thing to do. Even if he did manage to drop the bag of coins, she was too good to say anything about it. She trusted him. He'd never known anything like it. He smiled to himself, breathing deeply.

But another thought prodded him. He still had to tell her they couldn't see each other again. Tonight, he thought. He'd tell her tonight for sure, when he finished up here. She wanted him to come back for some activity. He couldn't quite remember; he scratched his head, frowning. No matter, he'd think about it later. Right now, he had a job to do.

Katsuro bounced down to the lower branches and blurred through the handseals of a henge. Turning out onto the lane near the white-walled clan compound, he dusted the black cloak, ridding himself of hard road travel. And old farmer looked up from his field at the newcomer. He nudged another farmhand, and both leaned on their rakes watching the black-clad interloper. Katsuro ignored them.

The gate was unlocked, and passing up the walk, Katsuro heard the unmistakeable sounds of bustling activity within the compound.

'Good,' he thought. 'Just drop this off and be on my way—'

"There you are," the wiry younger brother called from the doorway. He strode down the path toward Katsuro. "You have some nerve, pilfering our stores while we were away!"

"What are you talking about?"

"Don't pretend you don't know!" the brother hissed, his thin mustache shivering. "One of the farmers saw you last night creeping around the store house. Said the lock was pried and food was missing. Same as the lock on _our front gate_!" He huffed. "Just because you won't hand over your delivery doesn't mean you can steal our things!"

"But I wasn't anywhere near—"

"And the old housekeeper even saw you!"

"No…no I saw her yesterday—"

"Don't pretend it wasn't you!" He shook his head in disgust, looking Katsuro up and down. "No one else here wears such _dreadful_ clothes." Apparently satisfied with the come-uppance, the younger brother wheeled around and headed back to the door, ignoring Katsuro completely.

Katsuro gaped for a moment, trying to process what he'd just heard. Both those places he'd been, but the timing was off.

He narrowed his eyes. Someone was here, dressed as him, breaking in and stealing food? Unlikely. Katsuro knew the chances of another shinobi being out here were less than zero. It sounded more like a distraction, an easy excuse in case anyone saw a black-clad man skulking around.

"My brother isn't here. Come back tomorrow," the man sneered from the door. Then the door swished shut.

Katsuro let the man retreat without another word, but only because it suited him. He was well and truly angry; the younger brother was clearly playing games. But at that moment Katsuro had more pressing concerns.

Was this a message from his group? Had the deal changed?

Heading back down the path, his eyes roved over every inch, looking for another clue, another sign. Something only he would notice. But there was nothing.

He searched the front gate, the barn, everywhere he'd been and anywhere a note might have been stashed. But there was nothing. The lock on the gate had definitely been pried. But Katsuro was nearly certain he didn't make those marks. The gouges on the metal looked to be made by someone inexperienced with a blade. Perhaps it _was_ just a common thief.

After a few more hours of scouting around, Katsuro had nothing more to show for it than dusty hands and dirt-smudged knees. He had searched out every possible nook and cranny that a message might have been placed for him. But still he found nothing. He could only presume the deal was still on.

But it didn't answer the question of who was here. Was it really a thief? Or was it someone else…someone looking for him?

Katsuro squinted against the afternoon sun. Plunking his hands down on his hips, he knocked the bag of coins, then huffed frustratedly at the metallic tinkling sound. He had to get going, in order to meet Sakura for…. What was it she wanted to do? Visit the festival? He wasn't sure that was the best idea. Especially with a sack of money tied to his waist.

Katsuro glanced at the rooftops, the building corners, the fields and woodlands one last time, hoping some sign would be revealed. But of course there was nothing. Just like it had been all afternoon.

And it probably _was_ nothing, but the idea set him on edge. What if someone was looking for him, and saw him leave. What if someone followed him to the festival….

The chilling feeling that he might somehow put Sakura in danger rippled up. Katsuro grit his teeth against it, telling himself it was probably just a local thief. Even as he glanced at the rooftops.

Shaking his head, Katsuro refocused. _He needed to leave. It was late enough as it was. He had to tell Sakura. Tonight. This was probably nothing, but she needed to know._ He tugged the bag of coins, making sure they were secure.

Blinking at the field, mapping out the invisible path he would take to the village, Katsuro decided he would hide the sack in the woods before he went down into the festival. That way there would be no more slip-ups. That made him feel a little bit better about leaving while he still didn't know who was hanging around.

He glanced around again. Still nothing. He shook off his worries and left for the village….

Mere hours later, Katsuro woke to the smell of wet earth from the forest floor. Without ever opening his eyes, he yawned, flung an arm comfortably over his face and played through those thoughts again. It felt like it had been days ago.

Katsuro yawned again, deeply. Shifting his body in the leaves jostled the bag of coins. 'Tomorrow,' he told himself, eyelids growing heavy, 'I'll tell her tomorrow. And I'll get rid of the damn money. Tomorrow.' He'd make sure of that, he thought sleepily.

He peeked out from under his elbow to gauge the time…. The sun was already climbing back up in the sky.

"Shit," Katsuro muttered, blinking into the morning light. He scrambled up, brown leaves flying. In a frenzy, he grabbed the money, whipped on his cloak and took to the branches.

After the burst of adrenaline at waking up late, the journey this time was slower than ever. The bag of coins hung like an anchor at his waist, a constant reminder of how wrong this mission was going.

Well, he'd fix that today. He didn't care where the elder brother was, he'd find him and finish this mission. That determination helped him ignore his fatigue.

Hours later, Katsuro stood at the door of the complex. Muscles still pulsing from exertion, he tugged at the collar of his shirt, trying to let some cool air in.

The younger brother answered the call of visitor. Katsuro no longer expected to be admitted to see the clan head. But this time the thin man looked particularly tweaked.

"I told you, if you were going to steal from us, then the deal is off."

Katsuro reached back for the money. "What are you talking about—"

"Put that away," the man snapped, dipping a hand into the pocket of his long robe. "We've already had enough evidence of your ways."

Frowning thunderously, Katsuro pulled out the sack, jostling the coins inside and proving he had no weapon. He was just deciding to use a genjutsu on the frustrating man when he drew something unexpected out of his robe. Something horrifyingly familiar.

"I think this belongs to you? No one around here has any use for such 'tools,'" he spat out. "And you seem to be so fond of brandishing yours."

Hooked on his thin finger, a dull grey kunai swung in front of Katsuro's face. Only the silver edges and a series of scrapes on the blade picked up the light.

Katsuro couldn't believe what he was seeing. The sack of coins slipped from his hand, clinking loudly on the step.

The younger brother arched an eyebrow at Katsuro, pleased to have surprised him.

And Katsuro _was_ surprised. Shocked.

He cautiously took the kunai, almost afraid to touch it. But there was no mistake: it was his. Long scratches marred the flat of the blade, from where the whetstone nicked it just a few weeks before. His hand had slipped, scratching the kunai and slicing his finger on the sharpened edge.

Katsuro knew with certainty he had not packed the weapon in his pouch. In fact, he could not remember the last time he'd seen it.

His blood went cold. "Wh-where did you get this?"

The man scooped up the bag, smiling toothily. "You shinobis have such vile ways. Always resorting to violence anytime someone—"

Katsuro grabbed the front of his robe, shaking him. "Where did you find this?"

"Shouldn't you already know? Sticking out of the gate post, like a message? So crude…." Katsuro whirled around to see if there were some other clue left behind. The brother retreated to the safety of the doorway. "There now. You've made your delivery," he said, jingling the money in his hand tauntingly. "Now, be gone. Shoo!" And he quickly slid the door closed.

Katsuro's heart pounded. He looked everywhere at once. But he couldn't detect another presence or anything else out of place.

_What could it mean? His group never left such overt messages. But the kunai was definitely his. Could it be from someone else? Was this who was here the night before, dressed like a shinobi? Was someone watching him, lying in wait, hoping to flush him out— _

The clack of the door latch falling snapped Katsuro to attention. The slippery younger brother had taken the money. _Dammit! _He had to make sure that money made it to the elder brother. Glancing at the kunai in his hand, Katsuro swallowed the cold fear that someone was after him.

No, he told himself, this was a message from his group. _It had to be._

He shoved the weapon into his pouch. He'd deal with _that_ later. Right now, the money was the priority.

Katsuro pushed on the door but it was soundly locked. Skidding back down the path, he turned and leapt to the tiled roof, then followed the spine of the building as it zigzagged around the complex. One foot in front of the other, head low, he watched the inside of the compound for the family suites…as well as the land surrounding the complex for _anything_ out of the ordinary.

The gentle swish of a door opening came from somewhere below him.

"Brother…." a deep voice echoed up from the next courtyard. "I was just wondering where you'd gotten off to…."

_The clan head. The older brother. It had to be him. That was his target._

Katsuro leapt silently over the adjoining roof, carefully picking his way down the tiles. When the clan head was alone, he'd approach him and make sure the younger brother had delivered—

A slightly whinier voice carried up. "Oh, you know, here and there."

"Was someone here? I am expecting—"

"Oh no! Not at all. It was just an old farmer delivering potatoes…."

Something in Katsuro snapped. He had been thwarted for days, and he'd had enough. A searing heat licked up from his gut with the fresh anger.

Interior doors rustled open, then closed again. The muffled talking grew closer. They were moving towards the main house. He knew he needed to stop them here.

Katsuro spied an empty courtyard ahead of him, between the family suites and the main house, exposed on one side to the grounds.

_Good. Less eyes to observe._

In a fluid bound, he dropped down into the open space, landing in a crouch. A whisper of dust puffed out at his feet. Rising warily, Katsuro scanned the building to see if he'd been detected. But no one came running. Moving swiftly to the long covered porch, he padded down the boards towards the family rooms. His footfalls on the glossed wood were completely soundless.

Just ahead, noises of movement came from beyond a large papered door, growing louder. Katsuro slowed, hoping to edge a little closer to the room before the brothers came out. Foot squarely on a wide board, he was just shifting his weight when the wood gave way with a low groan.

Katsuro held his breath and eased up, rocking slowly back onto his other foot. It worked. The board went back into position with a sigh. Sidestepping the loose board, he gingerly tested the next one making sure it was silent. It was, and he was able to gain a few more steps and get into position before the large door to the family rooms slid back.

Completely silent, Katsuro waited.

Snippets of conversation and the rustle of movement drifted through the opening. An attendant stepped out to hold the door, never looking up. Which was regrettable, because when the two brothers finally came through the door, turning to walk side-by-side down the long porch, they very nearly collided with the solid, black-clad man blocking their path.

Both men froze; the younger brother squeaked.

Katsuro shifted his feet apart just slightly, digging in his stance. He felt more in control than he had in days. Breathing deeply, he finally let a little of the kyuubi's chakra seep up into his chest. The warmth was strangely reassuring.

The two men recovered quickly. The older brother, the one with the round belly and much more sumptuous silks than the younger, looked Katsuro up and down coldly. Beside him, the younger brother glanced between the two, nervously smoothing his thin mustache.

"Er...and he came by of course," the wiry man said with a shaky laugh. "Did I forget to mention?"

Tightening his fists, Katsuro thought about how much he'd like to throttle that man. As if responding, another stronger surge of dark chakra pulsed through him. Katsuro ignored it.

The elder brother proved he was more versed in these situations. He calmly dismissed the attendant, asking politely for a moment of privacy with their old friend. Then he turned back to Katsuro with a icy glare.

"My younger brother tells me you have been delayed." Katsuro's eyes widened at the lie. "But that is to be forgiven…now that you are here with your delivery."

Now it was Katsuro's turn to be smug. He arched an eyebrow at the younger brother, who had obviously pocketed the money.

"Oh, yes of course! I must have forgotten!" Flustered, he produce the familiar pouch from a deep fold of his robe. Katsuro sighed inwardly in relief.

"Ah, already anticipating me," the elder smiled and said to the younger, taking the bag. "What would I do without you?" The younger brother fawned, playing the role of dutiful sibling again, certain he could do no wrong in the eyes of his sibling.

The clan head glanced at Katsuro, then frowned again, remembering something. "Ah, dear brother, another favor: From the lacquered chest, please bring me the scroll with the red tassel. It's in the top drawer. Thank you."

"Of course, brother. Anything you ask," he said smoothly and whisked away.

The clan head was still inspecting the contents of the bag when the brother returned.

"All is as it appears, and in the correct amount," said the elder. "So that scroll goes with him."

Katsuro held out an open palm, waiting for his payment. But the wiry brother had one last stunt: Instead of handing it over, he bounced the scroll tauntingly above his hand a few times, hoping Katsuro would reach for it just so he could snatch it away again.

Katsuro didn't move. Palm out, he just stared straight at the man's thin face…and told himself not to kill him. Waiting for the moment of distraction, when the younger brother realized he wouldn't get the response he hoped for, Katsuro never shifted his focus. Then he tore the scroll out of his grasp.

Angry chakra threaded through his insides with the sudden movement, tearing at the cracks that Katsuro had already made. _It was time to go._ He turned on his heel, but the elder brother's deep voice stopped him.

"Such manners…. I would have expected more from a Kiri shinobi." Gritting his teeth, Katsuro turned slowly back to the man. "Your turning out to be nothing more than a common thief."

Katsuro was furious, but said nothing.

"Tell your man I will agree to the terms we discussed. However," he flicked cold eyes at Katsuro, "since _you_ kept me waiting, I require you to take care of our little 'problem' before you leave." The man leveled a hard look at Katsuro, grinding his fist around the neck of the sack. "Because if I find that so much as one more grain of rice has been pilfered," he growled, "then the deal's off."

Katsuro nodded tightly. "No one else will bother you."

"Excellent," the man's smooth tones returned. The sack of money disappeared into the pocket of the robe, and he turned toward the main quarters.

"Brother, check with the groundsman to see about installing some security measures on this side of the house."

The younger brother fell into step with his sibling. "Of course. I'll see to it right away," he said, shooting one last snide look over his shoulder at Katsuro.

Katsuro forced himself to let it go. This mission had cost him enough time already. He turned, stepped off the porch and bounded up to the roof.

The extra kunai dug into his leg as he jumped. He paused for a moment, crouched low on the tiles, taking the opportunity to see everything from the higher perspective.

Katsuro meant what he said: No one else would bother the man. Because there was no criminal here. The theft, the kunai — both were a message. _For him. _

But he had no idea what it could mean.

He set to searching the area, canvassing the same places again. But he no longer looked for a hidden scroll or a scrawled note on something that only he was sure to see. This time he looked for an encampment. If someone from his group was here, then there would be a trace.

But hours later, he'd found nothing. And he was more frustrated than ever.

Katsuro sat on the bale of hay where he'd spent his only night in this forgettable place. Leaning his back against the barn, Katsuro let his eyes slide closed for a moment in the cool shade. He was beyond thinking he'd be caught. Whoever had been here was gone now. But he was pretty sure they'd be back.

If he didn't have to meet Sakura, he'd stay here, lie in wait and discover who was searching for him.

But he couldn't.

He had to make a choice: If he waited then he'd miss Sakura. She was leaving tomorrow, he might not get another chance to see her. And if he waited, and no one came, or the message was of little importance, he would have given up his only chance.

But if he left, there was the risk that someone was watching him, waiting for him to move. Even now…. His gaze swept the horizon.

It was a terrible risk to go to the festival. What if someone saw him go, pursued him there?

Fate was indeed cruel to him: When he was finally free of his obligation, he knew without a shadow of a doubt that he no longer had the freedom to see her. It was simply too dangerous.

The choice was clear: He had to go to the festival. He had to tell her.

Coming to his decision only made him more nervous, however. He realized how much time he'd wasted there poking around for nonexistent clues. And the closer it drew to sunset, the more exposed he was to discovery.

Whoever was hoping to catch him was coming at night. But Katsuro had inadvertently thwarted them in this ridiculous mission. By being forced to travel to the festival each night, he had missed them.

Katsuro leapt to the trees, the loop of the extra kunai digging into his thigh. He watched every flutter of leaves and every movement on the ground, hoping he wouldn't intercept whoever was after him. Or worse, that he'd already given himself away.

The trip felt twice as long as all the others. Worry and deepening exhaustion weighed down each step. And the prospect of traveling into the night didn't help matters at all.

Katsuro yawned suddenly, the tight coil of anxiety easing for a moment. But as he continued, mind retracing the same information, the vulnerable feeling ratcheted back up.

He'd gone through it hundreds of time, who knew of his mission, when did he last see that kunai. Why it, and why him? He'd done nothing out of the ordinary, and given no reason for anyone, Itachi included, to give a second thought to any of his actions—

The branch cracked suddenly underneath him and Katsuro plummeted. He hastily grabbed another branch and swung himself back up. But he had to take a break. In that instant, when his adrenaline surged, the hot, angry chakra shot in with it. He gulped against the searing pain in his chest.

To think that it could get this far, that this mission could put him in so much distress that the demon thought it's host body was under threat.

Katsuro shook his head, rubbed his eyes. The light was playing tricks on him, he was tired, and his legs felt as stiff as the thick branches beneath him. But there was no time for rest. Refocusing, Katsuro slowly began again, leaping from limb to limb, disregarding the burning protest from his muscles. But the malevolent chakra that had taken hold in his chest was proving the hardest to ignore.

* * *

Sakura looked out over the purpling garden. Twilight had fallen like a veil since she'd last stood at the landing overlooking the formal paths and pools. The meeting was drawing to a close. All around, men were strolling, heads bent in close conversation, in the last throes of negotiations. And clan heads and tradesmen, sellers and buyers were hoping to make good on their time spent cultivating relationships over the last two days.

It was ironic that now she was no different. Sakura narrowed her eyes, scanning the grounds. She was hoping her investment of time would pay off too. But she wasn't hoping for a deal; she was looking for information.

Sakura had spent the day standing at her diplomat's shoulder, observing the posturing of the men at the long table. It was deadly dull stuff. They tussled over trade agreements, the price of commodities, and the effect of outside merchants and villages on their business. Quite a few eyes fell to Sakura during those discussions. Some of the more raucous arguments were over the nuances of a particular treaties, concerning agreements that had been made generations before.

Having very little knowledge of the history of this area, it's clans and trades, Sakura would have been completely in over her head had it not been for the charming politician. At every break he seemed to appear near her, if only for just a few minutes. He would flash that brilliant smile and give her a knowing look, apparently delighted to have someone to share his juiciest tidbits with.

Sakura thought maybe it was because she was so different from the rest. She wasn't competing for the deals and trade at stake here, and she was far removed from the armed guards in attendance. Most of them seemed little better than thugs. But she couldn't deny it was nice to be treated respectfully for a change. Even some of the lesser diplomats had nodded to her occasionally.

And Sakura returned the favor to the politician, which came in no small part as a result of observing the courtesan two nights before. She made sure to smile, flatter and make enough small talk to keep the gossipy conversation flowing, with no hint of her agenda. And the politician was more than happy to oblige.

Tsunade believed one of the large nations was trying to make inroads into the border countries, buy alliances. It was just a hunch based on the number of mission requests involving trade negotiations lately. But she was relying on Sakura to find any evidence.

And Sakura was happy to have a few leads to report back with. There were several large families in attendance, very wealthy and with lots of trade deals in the works. A few stood out to her, the clan heads being quite shrewd at manipulating the age-old trade agreements to suit their specific purposes. Bending the laws meant the lesser families or interests might lose profitable deals of their own. To Sakura, that kind of broad power seemed to be exactly what Tsunade was looking for.

But she also had her eye on another group, and more and more she was convinced that if anyone there was working behind the scenes it was them.

Though the mining clan had run a profitable business for years, this was their first time at trade summit. And yet remarkably, they had a product everyone wanted a share of. Their shabby clothes gave them the appearance of a hardworking lot, but Sakura couldn't help but wonder if it wasn't some sort of disguise. After all, she _did_ have some experience with scruffy men in shabby clothes, she thought, smiling inwardly at some of Katsuro's disheveled outfits.

However the guard was the biggest tip off that something wasn't right. Those men were decorated with scars and patches…and weapons. They had apparently seen a lot of battle, and they seemed ridiculously out-of-place among all the silk kimonos and polished manners. Sakura always watched their movements, where they went and with whom they spoke.

And, as if sensing her suspicions, the men watched her closely as well. Which didn't go unnoticed.

"They do seem to always keep their eye on you," the politician mentioned casually at the last break. He flicked his gaze to the surly group across the room before his dark eyes alighted on her face, watching her reaction.

Sakura was not frightened in the least, if that's what he was thinking. She rolled her eyes. He chuckled softly and handed her a sweet from the table.

"Apparently," he whispered, "they're holding out for a bigger catch. They've turned down quite a few promising offers already. I can't imagine what they're waiting for." He studied her for a moment before flashing a broad smile, as if she should understand him perfectly.

Sakura mirrored his expression, but the smile didn't quite reach her eyes. She had no idea what he was getting at. She just hoped her act was enough for him to continue. _Who_ were they holding out for? More money? Or the right connections?

Without realizing it, Sakura's eyes traveled across the room, landing on the rough-looking men. She was deep in thought, picking out their weapons then scanning body positions and faces out of ingrained habit, when she was startled by a pair of harsh black eyes staring back. The guard with the horrifying scar glared at her, turning all of his disfigured face for its full, unsettling effect.

Sakura blinked and turned quickly, refocusing on the smooth, unmarred skin of the man beside her. The corner of his mouth curled into a knowing smile. It rippled up the one scar he did have, that dashing half-moon at the corner of his eye.

Setting his plate down on the table, the politician stepped beside her and surveyed the room. He was quite close, the cool edge of his silk sleeve fell over her arm, but he did not step away.

"So there is some speculation that he has another buyer, a _hidden_ one," he said quietly.

Sakura followed his eyeline across the room, to where the rough trader was just speaking to an immaculately dressed clansman.

"But he's playing a dangerous game. Because if he holds out for too long, or too much, and his offer doesn't come through, then he will miss his other opportunities."

Sakura watched the group. "And what if he leaves empty-handed?"

"Well then, the tables will be turned. The other clans will be able to name their price."

"But you think there is another interest at work here, behind the scenes?"

"I'm growing more and more sure of it," he whispered warmly. Sakura dared a glance up from under her lashes. His eyes twinkled. He knew more, Sakura was sure of that.

She softened her expression. "You have an admirable skill for connecting up all the dots. I'm sure that is why so many of the clan heads seek you out."

He scoffed at her flattery, but Sakura was pleased to see him preening a bit without even realizing it. His smiled ticked a little wider, and he touched his elegant fingers to his hairline, smoothing back the already-smooth black hair in his long ponytail. She knew from academy lessons that touching the face, touching the hair, was a giveaway to your inner thoughts. He was thinking highly of himself. Hopefully that would prime him to share more.

"And if anyone here could see the bigger picture, I'm inclined to think that it's you," she gushed. His smile hitched wider. "But how do you know, for certain, that there is someone behind the scenes?"

His dark eyes glinted at the prospect of showing off his expertise. "Of course, leading up to the meeting it had only been rumors. But when they showed up, with double their guard, and openly courting the wealthiest clans, well, it's not hard to see the bigger picture." Sakura took a few shallow breaths. She was praying he would continue, and that she was not giving herself away.

"And have they said anything about it?"

"Them? Oh no, not to me." He clucked his tongue in disappointment. His face fell into an uncharacteristic frown. Sakura found her hopes sinking with it. "They want only clan heads. The wealthiest. The big fish. I'm not high enough to be of interest to them."

At that moment, the shabby clan head spoke with Sakura's diplomat again. Both nodded turning toward the garden in hopes of some private conversation.

"Yes but you said you were sure…."

The surly guard shot them a scathing look as he turned, as if daring them to follow.

"Oh yes," he laughed. "Just as you said, it is easy enough to see when you know what to look for." His gaze sharpened, slipping over her face, her hair.

Sakura didn't register it. The information she needed was tantalizing close. A ghost of a frown wrinkled up Sakura's brow.

"And-And what is it that you are—"

An attendant appeared at the other side of the politician, requesting assistance for his clan leader.

"I am sorry," he said, glossy smile returning. "I must leave you here."

_Shit._

The afternoon sun was slanting through the screen. Sakura's mind raced ahead: There would be no more breaks left after this. She may not get another chance. She had to make sure he would seek her out again after the meeting. Which worked better, because then his gossip would be about who secured a deal with whom. Perfect. So she had to take action now, set the wheels in motion. She remembered the courtesan…

Curling her hair behind her ear, Sakura relaxed her stance. "You have been such a help to me. I think I certainly would have been in over my head if not for you. I have enjoyed our conversations, but I fear this might be our last. I don't know if I will have a chance to see you again…." Sakura let the thought hang in the air, tipping her face to the side with sweet uncertainty.

Confusion suffused his features for a moment, but he rallied to soothe her worries. She had assumed the summit ended at sundown, just as it had the day before. He was happy his superior knowledge could easily correct her misunderstanding. Just as Sakura hoped.

"Just because the formal meeting ends, doesn't mean these men stop trying. No, negotiations only move to the garden. You'll see. Besides, I wouldn't let you get away without a proper farewell."

Sakura's smile returned. His gaze lingered on her face, appreciating the change. He looked for a moment as if might say something more, something personal. But to Sakura's relief, he didn't.

"Until later, then," he said, contenting himself with one last warm look.

In the gathering dusk Sakura moved down the steps into the garden. It was exactly as he'd said, the formal meeting had in fact moved to the graveled paths and footbridges that extended far behind the old home. Even in the darkest corners, which were growing darker with the approaching nightfall, heads were bowed together, deep in conversation.

But Sakura was hunting for the politician, looking for cream silks and listening for his carrying laugh.

Two men from a lower clan passed, nodding to her respectfully. Hiding her amusement, Sakura bobbed her head and wondered if it was out of respect or fear that they bowed to one of the armed guards at the meeting. She turned down another the gravel path.

But she didn't really care how the others saw her — Sakura was rather proud of herself at the moment. She had encountered a tricky situation and had manufactured a new plan on the spot. All to splendid results. Thanks to the courtesan, she cultivated a charming persona perfectly. The gossipy politician found a sympathetic ear in her, and he was glad to share his knowledge.

Sakura made sure not to be overly fawning, just attentive. She knew it must have flattered his sense of importance. And now she hoped to cash in on the time spent in his company. He would probably be bursting to whisper how the deals had gone down, which ones were scandalous betrayals and which showed that his powers of prediction were accurate.

Even her stony diplomat had conceded to the urgency of the evening, dismissing her to walk the grounds while he made some last-minute connections. If he noticed her "friendship" with the politician, he said nothing. But Sakura doubted he saw anything further than his own interests.

She would collect her information, confirm the deals, learn who was suspected of pulling string and finally have tangible information to take home to Tsunade…as well as something else.

Sakura breathed deeply, a slow smile creeping up her face. _Katsuro._ It wouldn't be long now until she could ask him, tell him that she wanted him to come with her. That she could keep him safe, that he'd never have to run again.

Sakura was carried away on the slipstream of what the future held for them.

She saw herself walking home, entering Konoha, introducing him to her friends and then folding him into her life. There would be missions and pranks, late nights and ramen. There would be no more secrets. And he would never be alone again. And really, neither would she. It would be wonderful. He was…he was her best friend. No, perhaps he was even more than that….

A baritone laugh startled her from the fantasy. She turned her head toward the sound. Coming around a corner, Sakura spied a small group clustered on a wooden pavilion overlooking a pond. The politician laughed again, but stopped when she came into view. Politely excusing himself, he moved to meet her at the next footbridge.

"So he's let you slip away," he said jovially. His cream silks and long ponytail swayed as he moved, as if every bit of him were brimming with his good mood. "Well all the better for me then. May I escort you?" He said, bowing with a flourish. Straightening, he offered his arm without hesitation.

Sakura accepted this silly flattery, taking his arm with a smile, but only because it came with such good information. Then the politician launched into an account of how things had turned out, which deals were still in play and which had fizzled.

They took the long way around, walking slowly. He spoke softly and Sakura nodded, showing her interest as if they were partners in this whole intrigue. Around them, attendants were silently lighting pale lanterns that hung from the trees. They flickered to life across the garden, shining in soft yellow spots beside the paths and casting the twilight shadows into deeper darkness.

Crossing another angled bridge, Sakura caught a glimpse of her diplomat deep in conversation with another man. As they continued walking, the man's jacket came into view. It was unmistakeable in it's shabbiness. It was head of the mining clan. She looked around for his thuggish guard, but surprisingly they were no where to be seen. Must be serious, she thought, if both men dismissed their guards for privacy.

The politician didn't miss her distracted silence.

"Your man must be deep in negotiations." He nodded in the direction of the men. "Last I heard he was vying for the mine owner's attention as well."

He looked to Sakura for some confirmation, but she only shrugged. Her diplomat had spent a lot of time with the man, but she had no idea what they were talking about. That's why she had been sent away.

However this was the opening she had been hoping for.

"So...the mine owner is still shopping around?"

The politician looked sideways at her, the corner of his mouth curving up into a calculating smile.

"Yes. Yes, he is."

"And you still think he has an outside interest?" Sakura hoped she didn't sound too eager.

The politician paused for a moment, thinking. He glanced around, and seeing every path well occupied, nodded toward another route free from men in conversation. This new trail looped around behind the centerpiece of the garden, an artificial hillock with a decorative shrine at the top, and wound up where her diplomat was in discussion. Sakura obliged him.

Walking down the blueing gravel, Sakura thought this was probably the most secluded spot in the whole expansive garden. The mossy woodlands here had been largely left alone, with the only improvement being the addition of stone lanterns. Their orange light pooled at the occasional bend in the path.

This would be a perfect spot for a romantic tryst. _Or to convey a guarded secret._ Sakura cut her eyes at the politician. The pale snips of light rippled across his face as they walked. The excitement of uncovering the truth trilled up in her. She hoped her hard work payed off.

His smile turned warm, wrinkling up the dashing scar at his cheek. He lowered his voice a notch, even though no one else was near enough to hear.

"So I have some suspicions…. But first, I have another mystery which is not so easily solved." He tipped his head, black eyes following the curves of her face.

"You see, I've been wondering something since…well, since I first laid eyes on you. What is someone like you doing in a place like this?"

Sakura nearly groaned out loud. Had her harmless flattery gone too far?

"But then when I saw you at the festival, I figured it all out." Sakura's blood slowed to ice in her veins. He watched her face closely.

Just then a cool breeze kicked up, whistling through the branches. It blew a few strands of hair across her face. She moved to brush them aside, but caught his knowing glance at her hair. Sakura's breathing stilled. So he _had_ seen her hair.

"I couldn't help but notice your attendant," he continued smoothly. "I _thought_ you were the solitary guard for your diplomat. But now it all makes sense."

Sakura was silent, unable to come up with a plausible story fast enough. He could easily check with her diplomat, and if that man knew, he could easily make a remark to Konoha. This could be the single thread that unraveled her whole involvement with Katsuro, if her story was not perfectly sound.

"What 'all makes sense?'" Sakura said haltingly.

"Oh don't worry dear," he cooed, a weak attempt to soothe her unease. "Your secret is safe with me."

The gratification of being right, even though he was mistaken, brought out another side.

"I knew you were nothing like those other guards. They're the master's dogs," he snorted unkindly. The flattery of the meeting was gone.

Sakura rallied at that comment, her rising anger helping to clear the fog of being discovered with Katsuro.

"And just exactly who do you think I'm like?" she said, her voice stronger. His hand was beginning to feel heavy on her arm. She wished she wasn't so close to him.

"Oh no, I am so sorry to have offended you. I knew you were special the moment I laid eyes on you. And it made sense when I saw you with an attendant. Why would Konoha ever send you out into these wilds alone?"

He laughed as if the mere idea were preposterous. She tore her arm away from him.

Sakura was seething mad. Did he think she was too young or, she narrowed her eyes, was it because she was a girl that he was suddenly patronizing. He didn't seem to notice.

"But I can't figure out is what your village hopes to gain from this summit. Why hide behind him?"

"I don't hide behind anyone," she growled. "The request came in, and I was sent out. It's as simple as that."

"You mean, you're not a diplomat from Konoha? Or a noblewoman?" Sakura shook her head vigorously at the ridiculous notion. "You mean you really are…just his guard?"

"I'm a Konoha shinobi, not merely a guard. And certainly not the master's dog!" Both were silent, but Sakura's fury was only growing. "And wasn't it _you_ who showed me the nightingale floor? That I would like it because I was a _shinobi_?"

"I thought that was an act!" He rubbed a hand over his face. They stood in heavy silence in the path.

"I-I am sorry," he said, sounding earnest for the first time. He was clearly struggling with the whole situation. "It seems we have both been misled, I believe."

"The only one misled here is you. I was hired _by him_ to accompany him to this meeting. The mission request came down through the village. That's it. In the morning I'll be well on my way home."

Though she'd said it before, this time he truly heard her.

"As, so he sent for you, not the other way around. Interesting…" His eyes focused away, as if he wasn't sure whether to be angry or impressed.

Sakura laughed bitterly at the man's stupidity and resumed walking.

"Well, then," he said, recovering quickly and falling into step beside her, "it is still my good fortune that you have come." That glossy smile was firmly in place when he looked at her again.

Sakura felt like smacking it off his face. But she wanted to know something first.

"So, is there another group influencing trade here or not?" The dulcet tones of the courtesan persona were long gone.

He just laughed ruefully. Sakura curled her fingers into a fist.

They came out of the shade of the wood, another light breeze pushed against them. Ahead of them on the walk, Sakura's diplomat was still engaged with the head of the mining clan. But things were clearly not going well.

Beside her, the charming politician had lost his charm. He surveyed the crumbling negotiation with interest, and not with a little humor.

The mine owner slashed a hand through the air angrily, signaling he was finished with the diplomatt.

"Serves him right," the politician muttered to himself.

Swinging around, the mine owner shot Sakura a mean glare. She glared back until he turned and stalked off.

The politician never took his eyes off her diplomat, but his voice was low, so that only Sakura could hear it.

"My dear, your company has been a pleasure, I assure you. But if you are looking for an outside investor here, you need look no farther than your own doorstep."

Sakura turned to him in angry confusion.

"_You_ have been the 'biggest fish' at this meeting."

"W-What?" she gasped.

"And _he_ has made several successful deals because of it."

Sakura no longer felt the ground beneath her or noticed the clansmen on the adjoining paths.

An awful realization was crashing down, brought on by his last, horrifying words.

_The successful deals, they were…they were because of her?_

_The mine owner was only negotiating with her diplomat because she was with him?_

_He had said he had the backing of Konoha. They thought she was a "big fish," pulling the strings for Konoha, the biggest fish of them all._

"After this," the politician said, voice low and cutting, "I wouldn't be surprised if he ships you back from Konoha just to accompany him to the market." He laughed again, but it was no longer the pleasant baritone. This time, his laughter was cruel.

Sakura barely heard him; she moved without thinking. The harsh truth dislodged other possibilities, until her flawed beliefs were crashing down like a house of cards.

_And the politician…. He had sought her out, hadn't he? Not the other way around._

_He always appeared at her side, flattering and providing her information, leading her on. She thought she could just smile and draw information out. But he had willingly told her everything. _

_He courted her, just as he courted any other "big fish." She just couldn't see it._

"It's pretty crafty, actually" the politician continued, oblivious to her discomfort. "He wouldn't have landed half as many deal as he did without you in tow." He was clearly hovering between anger at having been played manipulated and admiration at the sheer audacity of taking such a gamble. "To think, he'd go so far as to hire a village shinobi."

At this Sakura stumbled on a step. She grabbed reflexively for the handrail. The politician seemed to recall his former charm and gently grasped her arm to stable her, noting for the first time her overly quiet demeanor.

"Well, don't take it too hard, there's no real harm done," he said pleasantly. "'All's fair in love and war,' you know. But this…_this_ is business. I would wager they play very different games here than anything you've been trained for."

Sakura was beginning to feel sick.

_Hadn't the politician said this was a shell game? And that all these men knew it?_

_Now, she knew it too._

Somehow, her feet carried her the rest of the way down the path, and she found herself before the clan leader she was hired to guard. She felt numb.

For the first time, Sakura's stony diplomat looked slightly discomposed. He folded his arms over his chest, wrinkling the front of his kimono. Frowning, he watched the mine owner approach another well-dressed clan head. After a moment of conversation, the clan elder threw back his arm, his sumptuous sleeve fluttering in the breeze, and they both disappeared beyond a corner.

"Problems?" the politician said with a trace of a smirk.

"My investor didn't come through," Sakura's diplomat said, frowning. "I had hoped to receive a scroll, but none arrived. And _he_ requires proof before he will commit."

The politician nodded sagely. "But at least you are not going home empty handed." He glanced involuntarily at Sakura.

"Yes, yes," he said, slipping back into his aloof demeanor. "I am fortunate in that." He glanced at Sakura as well, noticing for the first time her silence.

"Are you alright? You look," he peered at her for a moment, "a little pale."

Sakura forced her lips into a smile. "Just tired."

"Well, this has been an interesting summit. I, for one, have learned a lot," the politician said cheerfully. Apparently he decided that despite her clan head's manipulation, he was still a good connection to have. Perhaps an even better one now, knowing how crafty he was. "Let's keep in touch. If your investor ever comes through, I have a lot of connections beyond this meeting that might be of interest. Particularly to someone like yourself who is unafraid to take risks."

His flattering remark hit its target. The diplomat like the sound of that. He smoothed down his kimono, tipping his chin up with satisfaction. "Yes, yes. That would be acceptable."

This time, Sakura didn't miss the glint in the politician's eye. He had gotten what he wanted, with minimal effort. She shook her head lightly. He was more like the courtesan than she ever hoped to be.

Turning to go, he flashed one of his broad, curving smiles at Sakura. Shes never realized how patronizing it was. She hated it.

"My dear, it has been an pleasure. Shall I see you tonight, perhaps? Will you be taking in the fireworks display…." His gaze drifted to her hair.

"No," she said sharply. "I have to get an early start."

"Well, then it's my loss." He swept her a deep bow, more than was appropriate for the guard of a mid-level clan.

Furious, she bobbed her head simply to save herself from having to speak. The politician left them, moving directly toward another large entourage.

"I wouldn't take his flattery too seriously if I were you," the diplomat said cooly as they began to walk again. "Whatever he offers will come at a price." He cut his eyes to her, looking her over once. "But perhaps, even with all your weapons, you are still too young to understand the ways of the world."

Sakura's face flamed at the insinuation. She bit back a savage reply.

Another mid-level clan head crossed the path in front of them. He bowed once to Sakura's diplomat, then surprisingly, to her as well.

She stifled her anger and nodded back, seeing clearly the picture around her. It was not just her clan head and the politician, but all these men saw her as a emissary of Konoha. _Not_ as a shinobi.

But if they were all opportunists, then she was a fool. By refusing to act like a barbarian, she had unwittingly supported the gossip her diplomat had either started or fueled, that she was there pulling the strings.

The continued up the path toward the house. He signaled to the attendant waiting there that it was time to leave.

"Well, it seems like a made a good choice hiring a Konoha nin," he said as they approached the front gate. There was a smug note to his voice the Sakura couldn't ignore.

"And when can I expect another communication from Konoha?"

"I will deliver it in three weeks time," she said, forcing herself to remain polite.

He nodded once and, without another word, turned out the gate toward his lush accommodations. A few of his attendants bowed at her but did not fall out of step. Before she knew it, she was alone.

Sakura felt like she'd just been washed up on shore.

She thought about dashing to the inn and writing down her notes, but it struck her that there may not be much point. What if the things the politician had told her were false? Just carefully crafted lies designed to lure her interest?

Growing more and more dejected, she slowly trod to the inn to retrieve her cloak and the masks. She open her scroll, jotted down which deals had been solidified, but that was it. She realized that all her information had come from the politician, and him alone. There was no way she could verify any of it.

She shook her head, snapped the scroll shut and whipped on her cloak. She wished she could speak to Tsunade about this.

But remembering the Hokage, and her specific orders for this mission, brought out more self-doubt. Had she really only been chasing her own shadow this whole time?

Just a few hours before, she had been so sure of herself. Then, she was absolutely certain that the mine owner's group was up to something. But now, those assumptions only reflected poorly on her. Had she just assumed that they were on the wrong side of a deal because they were they looked like common street thugs? Just as others had assumed that she was a diplomat in disguise simply because she did not look the part of a shinobi?

Back out on the street, two kids ran past, masks on their faces and cloaks streaming behind them. The disguises did little to lift her mood. She made her way to the canals, jostled occasionally by the raucous festival goers, passing the garish stands bent on luring you in and the manicured residences nearly advertising that you were to be keep out. All these facades, created to deceive or simply to keep their secrets. It made her miss the straight-forward messiness of Konoha. There were no secrets hidden behind the lines of laundry, the stacks of produce outside the stores or the flapping awnings of the ramen stands.

Thoughts of Konoha helped restore her resolve. After all, she still had another task to finish tonight.

Sakura turned onto a bridge and leaned on the rail. The cherry blossoms were at their brilliant peak, and the slight breeze sent them streaming through the air around her. But even in this glorious setting, her mind wandered.

Katsuro would love Konoha too, she was sure of it. Because he was different. He was like her. She'd bring him home, fold him into her life and protect him from…from….

Propping her elbow on the rail, she dropped her chin into her palm and drummed her fingers on her cheek.

Well, she'd protect him from the whoever was after him. And Itachi too, she thought, curling up her lip in distaste.

It was no wonder he was so cagey about his life — if she had to work with men like Itachi and the Akatsuki, she'd be cagey too. Itachi must have picked him up somewhere and put him to work doing his dirty-work. She knew he didn't want to, she knew he was a better person than that. But he was shackled to this life with Itachi. Well, she could break him free. She could give him a new life, protect him. He'd never have to go back to the hell of being with Itachi again.

A stiff breeze rattled through the treetops, sending puffs of blossoms out over the canals. Everywhere, petals rained down. Sakura brushed them off her shoulders, shook them gently from her hair. She dropped her gaze back to the dark water. A blanket of pale blossoms moved together as one on the rippling surface.

But what if she was wrong. After everything that had happened today… what if she was wrong about Katsuro too….

Sakura drew a fortifying breath, shook off the rest of the petals and the worries. No, she would not doubt herself. This was different. She wasn't wrong about him. She _knew_ Katsuro. He'd be thrilled to come home with her. She didn't know why she hadn't thought of it sooner.

Sakura circled back to the alley several times, but Katsuro still wasn't there.

It was getting late, and she hadn't yet given up hope, but she was completely surprised when she spotted the profile of a man leaning against the wall, fading into an angled shadow.

Hands shoved in his pockets, he looked up the alleyway toward the road. The man turned his head suddenly, hearing the noise of someone approaching. Half his face in blue light, he cast searching, tired eyes down the end of the dark alley.

It was Katsuro. Sakura was astonished she didn't recognize him right away.

He pushed slowly off the wall and closed the space between them.

"Hey," he said softly. He gave her his warmest smile, but it couldn't cover the deep circles under his eyes.

"Hi." Sakura scanned his face with concern. She reached a hand toward him, fingertips just beginning to glow. "Let me read your chakra levels, you might be–"

He edged away. "Nah, I'm fine. Just tired."

Sakura dropped her hand, glow dissolving.

"But...it's good to see you," he offered.

Sakura smiled finally. "It's good to see you too."

And she meant it. She studied the lines of his face, his soft, tired eyes. She hadn't realized how much she wanted to see him. How much she _needed_ to after that mess of a meeting. And even though she had so much to say, so much to ask, she decided not to spring it all on him right away.

A couple passed the end of the lane. The smell of seared meet and vegetables wafted up from one of their parcels.

Katsuro's stomach growled suddenly. Embarrassed, he clamped a hand over his gut. Sakura covered her mouth, failing to hide her giggle.

"Why don't I get us something to eat," she said, grinning. "I saw a ramen stand a few blocks back. Do you like ramen?"

He shrugged. Sakura filled in the blanks: He'd never had it. "Well, you'll love it."

"Sakura," he said, reaching to stop her. "There's something I need to—"

Feeling around for the money in her pouch, Sakura pulled out the masks out instead. Katsuro jerked his hand back as if they were hot.

The white faces stared up with their gaping, hollow eyes. For Sakura, the thought of putting on one of these disguises was bad enough. But if they did go to the festival, she might run into the politician or anyone else from the meeting. That thought made her a little ill.

She looked up at Katsuro apologetically, and was surprised to see that his expression mirrored hers.

"Listen, I really don't think I should…" he hedged, hands up. "I mean, I'm really tired."

"Yeah, me too," Sakura said with relief. "How about we skip it?"

She hooked the knotted laces on a latch of a nearby gate. "There, that's done," she said brightly. "Now I'll go get us some dinner!" Sakura trotted down the dark lane and rounded a corner before he could argue.

Katsuro sighed. He scanned the alley again, roof lines, walls, corners. He listened hard, sniffed the air. Still nothing. He was afraid he'd been followed, that somehow he'd endangered Sakura. But thankfully, so far, he'd been wrong.

The breeze kicked up, rattling the masks where the dangled from the gate latch. Katsuro narrowed his eyes at the fox mask. _Like he needed another reminder._

The heat from the kyuubi had settled permanently in his chest. He nearly jumped when she wanted to heal him. The warmth of his skin would have been a giveaway that something was not right about him, even before she discovered the molten chakra living just below the surface of his own.

He'd have to be careful tonight. The kyuubi chakra was restless, rising to the perceived threat. The demon latched onto Katsuro's nervousness, that feeling of vulnerability. Katsuro knew his anxiety gave it a foothold.

He always kept good control over the chakra, and had enough mastery now to use it however he wanted. But he was never completely at ease. And tonight, the growing heat was a warning. Like carrying a single match through a summer-dry field, Katsuro knew he'd be fine…as long as he didn't make any mistakes.

He rubbed a hand over his chest, and slowly walked down the lane in the direction Sakura disappeared.

He was sure to be terrible company tonight, knowing that this was it. He had to tell her. He couldn't run from it anymore. This was the end.

At a dark intersection of lanes, Katsuro stopped. He had no idea which way she went.

He stood listening for her…and listening for anything else. Only the muffled sounds of the festival and the steady drip of water from some nearby building. A dog picked at some trash, then kept on down the alley, nose to the ground.

Muffled shouts rang out in the distance.

Frowning, he concentrated, trying to isolate the sound….

_"Hey! I said knock it off!"_ Sakura's voice ricocheted up from the mesh of lanes.

Katsuro's mouth went dry. _She'd been attacked. Because of him. This was what he was afraid of._

He tore off without another thought. But there were no more sounds to follow. He continued moving, dashing down lanes, breathlessly looking for her cloak, her hair, anything. But all was silent. The lanes and alleys were empty.

Katsuro opened and closed his fists. _If something happened to her…. If something happened to her…._

His desperate need to keep her from harm kindled the kyuubi's hellish chakra in a way it never had before. Something had changed within him: His self-protective circle had expanded by one, and the demon was reacting to it. From his gut, the malevolent chakra pushed forward, surging within him for the sole purpose of finding her. But Katsuro barely registered it.

Heart pounding, he raked his gaze over the roofline. He needed a better vantage point. Katsuro bent to lunge to the roof when a sudden smell wafted on the breeze. _The food. Sakura was getting food. _He dashed down the lane, trying to catch the scent again. Finally it started to get stronger.

And sure enough, turning that dark corner where it was strongest, he laid eyes on Sakura instantly. But she wasn't alone.

Illuminated by lamplight, Sakura stood with one box of food. The other was smashed at her feet. Circling her were several cloaked, masked men, wearing the same festival disguises as nearly everyone else in the village. The largest one was hulked over her, his grotesque war god mask getting closer and closer to her face.

He was speaking to her. Katsuro could see her hair shivering with the puffs of breath. But Sakura held her ground. She didn't move, didn't blink, even as her hand disappeared under her cloak.

But Katsuro's blazing anger left him blind to everything but the desire to drive a kunai through those men.

Tightening his fist, the chakra gathered in a warm cloak around his fingers, tinting his skin faintly red. For the first time, drawing on the power which no one else had was suddenly, deliciously satisfying.

And the kyuubi's power sharpened with its host's focused desire to protect. Instead of clawing at his insides looking for any crack, the demon chakra stirred and swirled, moving in harmony with its host. Ready to pounce.

Under the lone light of the alley, the biggest thug hovered inches from Sakura's face. Sakura tipped her chin up, nearly daring her assailant to come closer. Where her arm was exposed from her cloak, the muscles were taught, as if she were preparing to deliver a blow.

But a subtle movement in the shadows drew the thug's attention. He swung his garish masked-face around, looking for the source. Hse didn't have to look long.

From the far end of the empty lane, Katsuro materialized out of the darkness.

His fists were tight at his sides, and the black cloak licked the ground with each step. But the flash of red eyeshine from inside the deep hood was unholy, like an animal closing in on it's prey.

A heavy, threatening feeling unfurled down the alley with him. It permeated the small space, leaving those in its path feeling uneasy and fearful. Like the worst was yet to come.

Sakura watched Katsuro, wondering if this was the power which kept the others at bay. She'd heard about powerful chakra signatures registering in times of extreme stress, but this…this was unlike anything she'd ever experienced.

Around her, the cluster of men fell away, ducking their heads and turning to retreat without another glance at the newcomer.

Only the big one hung back, shooting a long, hard look at Katsuro as he came into the light. Though he couldn't see all of the man's face, the big thug could see enough to tell he wasn't going to mind his business and keep on going. And the pink-haired girl wasn't worth a brawl. They'd only wanted to scare her anyway.

Tipping his masked-face away, the thug stepped back from Sakura, grinding his boot on her crumpled food carton as he turned. He followed his companions out of the lane.

Sakura didn't care. She didn't even move. She only watched Katsuro draw closer, surprised that the person she knew so well could exude such a feeling of…of…power. It nearly tingled in the air. If she didn't know him so well she would have felt threatened as well.

Katsuro stopped in front of her, eyes still riveted to the far end of the lane where they retreated. Sakura guessed he hadn't quite decided whether or not he would pursue them. But the strong surge of chakra she'd felt earlier had completely dissipated.

A mess of noodles and the flattened carton lay on the ground between them. Katsuro scanned her face. "Are you ok?"

She let the cloak fall back from her bent elbow, revealing a hidden kunai. Her fingers drummed expertly down the grip.

"Yeah, I'm fine," she said reassuringly. She smiled at him, curious that he would have such a strong reaction to just some street kids.

He frowned at her hand, then looked back down the lane, still processing what had happened.

"Come on," she said lightly and turned to go. "Let's go have some ramen. I know you're going to love it."

They headed back to the dark lane where they started from, but voices caused them both to stop. Up the alley two kids were trying on the masks Sakura had hung on the old gate. The swapped them, then traded them back, all the while talking animatedly. In the next moment they dashed out of the lane toward the canals, the silhouette of the masks lurching between them.

Katsuro pointed to a large crate just inside the alley. They climbed up, sat down and shared the single carton of food, eating silently for a while.

"How do you like it?"

"It's good," he said. "Really good." But other than that Katsuro was uncharacteristically quiet. Sakura could not know that the receding chakra left him even more drained than before.

He pushed the carton towards Sakura, but she held up a hand, hoping he would finish the rest. She got no argument from him.

"I had everything under control, you know" Sakura said softly after a few minutes of introspection. "You didn't have to come out—"

He snickered once in disagreement. She looked at him in surprise.

"You don't think so?"

"He knocked the food out of your hand and was in your face," Katsuro said, voice thick with irritation. He put the chopsticks down. "You left yourself open. He could have been anyone—"

"He _could have_, but he wasn't," Sakura snapped. After the day's events, his doubt hit a nerve. "They were kids I busted stealing in the village two nights ago. And for your information I _let him_ dump the food."

Katsuro looked at her askance, doubt clear on his face.

"I was going to have to drop it anyway to get my kunai. So I decided I'd teach him a lesson about never underestimating his opponent."

She left off that giving a good beating to a bunch of punks who clearly deserved it was the perfect remedy to the shattering self doubt she'd been thrown into after the trade meeting. This was her element — she was a _true shinobi_, after all. And she was really looking forward to seeing the surprise on their faces when they ended up on their backs in the road next to that smashed ramen container.

Katsuro sat back slowly. "I see."

"I watch everyone, I never let them sneak up on me. I learned that from you." She knocked her shoulder into his.

"Yeah…sorry," he said quietly. He picked up the chopsticks and slowly began eating again.

Sakura filled in the silence with a few little anecdotes about her village, trying to get him to loosen up. Before long, she had slipped Katsuro into picture. But instead of telling him how much he'd love it, she tried to let him see it through her eyes, so he'd know what to expect.

She talked about her daily life and her missions. A few gusty breezes blew down the alley, ruffling their hair. She spoke, and he listened. It was more than she'd ever said, and she made sure it was all positive and enjoyable. But he didn't remark on any of it. He simply put aside the carton and chopsticks and tipped his head back against the wall.

Unhindered, Sakura continued, talking about some of her friends, the ones that made him laugh and new ones he was likely to meet. But his response was subdued. Sakura fell into a pensive silence. She realized some of her grumblings may have painted one nin in particular in a bad light.

"And Sasuke's not _so_ bad." She laughed quietly. "He's very…um…loyal. Plus he's a good shinobi. And, well actually, you'd probably get along well together."

Sakura ran her fingers along the rough edged of the crate. She didn't know what made her think that, but she did. They seemed well suited to each other. Sasuke, who had so much power and so much sadness, might actually take to someone who also had shouldered heavy burdens at a young age. And Katsuro was not so weighed down by his experiences that he didn't have a good heart. She smiled at the thought of Katsuro springing jokes on Sasuke, imagining what other mischief they might get up to.

From under hooded eyes, Katsuro quietly watched her softening expression. He didn't like it. Not one bit.

This visit was turning out to be terribly different from last summer. She was…different. She was preoccupied with her village. With her mission. With _him._

It felt like her life was moving on without him. And he found he hated it. A new feeling roared to life within him, competing with the relentless burn of chakra in his chest. He felt sick, and sullen, and mad at her for no good reason. It wasn't her fault: He knew things couldn't stay the same and that he just couldn't let her go. But did she have to like her village so damn much?

"And of course you'll have Itachi in common…." she said innocently.

Everything came to a grinding halt.

"What?"

"Itachi," she repeated, as if he should understand her perfectly. "You and Sasuke will have that in common…. I mean, you both do have that…. You know, the both of you know Itachi—"

Fury displaced his newfound jealousy. The kyuubi's chakra blazed with the sudden emotion. Katsuro wanted no connection with Sasuke. None. And he sure as hell didn't want to hear it from her.

Out of nowhere, a lone firework whistled over the treetops, exploding directly above them in a bone-rattling boom, startling both of them deeply. The street lit up like daylight, and the multicolored lights sparked brightly against the gathering clouds.

Sakura recovered instantly. "Oh they must be starting fireworks display. Bet they're trying to beat the weather." Reflected light glittered in Sakura's eyes as she watched the sky in anticipation.

But Katsuro grit his teeth and looked down, hissing against the sharp pain in his midsection. The seal at his gut ached and his chest burned. The chakra fairly thrummed now, responding to his shock, searing him with each breath. He felt hot all over. And his eyes were starting to burn. This was bad. He needed to cool off.

Another firework boomed right over their heads. The chakra pulsed in him again. _He needed to get out of here._

"Should we go down and watch? There are some closer spots, or we could go up on a roof—" Sakura turned to gauge his opinion, only to see Katsuro standing suddenly. But instead of answering her, he launched to the roof.

Confused, Sakura left the empty ramen box on the crate and rushed to follow him. He was moving fast, head down, roof over roof, and she might have lost him had she not seen him bound over the outer wall. Pushing the chakra to the balls of her feet, she hurried after him.

He finally slowed when he was in the thicket of trees outside the wall, but he didn't stop. He only moved deeper into the woodland.

"Hey, are you…are you ok?" she called to his back when she was close enough to him.

"Yeah," he said, never looking back. "I-I just had to get out of there"

Sakura didn't answer, only followed him farther and farther up the hillside.

When he finally stopped, Sakura turned back to see just how far they'd gone. The lights from the village were just a rosy glow at the bottom of the night sky. A few fireworks still popped, but the show was over.

But Katsuro had his back to the scene. Instead he was cautiously scanning the black trees ahead of them, eyes moving from branches to trunks, looking for any small movement. He didn't know what he was looking for, but he searched until he felt safe.

Another breeze gusted through the bare trees, colder this time, signaling the impending change in the weather. The chill air felt good on his overheated skin. He breathed deeply, trying to relax. Thankfully, the kyuubi's chakra was no longer arcing wildly out of control.

Now all Katsuro was left with was the residual pain, and the knowledge that it was now or never. He had to tell her. He strengthened his resolve and readied to turn back to Sakura. He could not know, however, that at the same moment she was doing the same.

He turned back to her, the words on his lips.

"I—" their voices sounded in unison. Sakura laughed. Katsuro shook his head, dragging a hand across the back of his neck.

Sakura toed the ground. "What did you want to…."

"No, you go first," he offered readily, smiling in encouragement.

"You've probably already figured it out," she curled her hair behind her ear self-consciously, "that I wanted to ask you, or really invite you, I guess…I mean…." She cleared her throat. Katsuro's smile fell.

"Well, I know you have to go with Itachi." She shuddered. "He's a monster. As if he wasn't before, but now he's even in the Akatsuki and they—"

"All Akatsuki are monsters," Katsuro said quietly, cutting his eyes away. But his voice was chilling. As if he knew this for fact.

Sakura blinked at him for a moment. Of course he would. He was with Itachi. It was so easy to forget. But she quickly regrouped.

"I know you have to be around them, and I know you have to follow Itachi's orders. But _I know you_. You're not like them." A gentle smile curved up the corners of her mouth. "And life doesn't have to be like that."

Katsuro slowly shook his head, horrified.

Sakura smiled, stepping toward him. She reached her hand out to his. "I want you to come home with me."

He stepped back, eyes wide with disbelief. "How could you ever think—"

"I know what you told me, about your village. But I could protect you. You don't have to ever go back to Itachi's group again."

"And this…_this_ is what you wanted to ask me?" A dangerous edge crept into his voice.

"Yes of course. What else would there be? I only have one more mission after this. And I don't know when I'll be able to see you again…." She stepped toward him again. "But it doesn't matter! Because you could come home with me! "

A breeze rattled through the leaves on the ground.

"No. I could never, ever…." he said, voice low, trembling with rage. The chakra in his chest was ratcheting back up.

Sakura was ready for this — she knew he'd need more convincing. "Remember, partners? Teammates?" He took another step back. But she rejoined brightly, still moving towards him, "Well if you came home with me, we could really be teammates!"

Katsuro shook his head, his hands were fists.

"I'm not coming home with you," he said bitterly. "Do you think this is a game? That I can just leave—"

"If you're only with them to stay safe, then come home with me. You'll be safe there," she said stridently.

"_I can protect you_."

He made a cruel sound of disagreement and turned away from her. He didn't say it, but Sakura knew what he was thinking: _How could you protect me. You can't even protect yourself. _

She had a plummeting feeling. This was the Katsuro she remembered, from the road and the temple. This was the mercenary.

Sakura stared at his back. She refused to accept this. She knew him. She wasn't letting it go.

A strong wind bore down on them, wooshing through the treetops.

"I want you to come home with me," she demanded, voice rising over the din. He didn't move. She repeated it, louder. "I want you to come to Konoha!"

That word, that one word, opened a floodgate of memories for Katsuro, visions that he knew weren't his. Konoha in flames. Bodies and blood and screams of anguish. Katsuro winced and clutched his hands to his head. The wind turned to howls of pain.

Katsuro fisted a hand in his hair, refusing to accept the scenes. The kyuubi's chakra was dangerously close to the surface. He had pushed himself too far this time, and the demon was trying to claw its way out.

Katsuro cracked his eyes open, desperate to get away. But the woods wavered in front of him, red seeping into the black spaces between the trees, delineating them. He blinked, and the whole hillside appeared before him, in perfect definition as if lit by a blood-red sun. _Shit._ He rubbed his eyes, ignoring the burn. He blinked again, and the forest returned to inky black. But the red tinge was slowly creeping back in.

"Katsuro…."

Her voice sounded thin, breakable, in the darkness.

Sakura stepped forward to touch his shoulder, stop him from going, but a branch cracked loudly under his foot.

He moved away from her at the sound. The orange glow from the village lights clung to his outline, but in two steps, even that had faded. The wind picked up again.

"You're not like them," she called after him, hand on a tree for support. His faint outline dissolved into the black.

"You don't belong with them" she yelled, willing her voice to carry into the silent treetops.

"_Katsuro_," she called into the darkness, emptying her lungs.

But there was nothing. Just the sound of her own ragged breathing and the branches creaking with the breeze.

He was gone.

He may have never heard her.

* * *

Pounding through the leaves, vision wavering in and out of red, Sakura's voice still rang in his ears.

But her words hit him like a punch. She wanted Katsuro. She wanted an illusion.

The real boy, the one underneath, hidden from view for all these years, the one with the terrible power at his core, was the one that couldn't return with her. He could never go to Konoha.

Unwittingly, the thought drove more images to his mind. He grasped a tree, hanging on against the strong breeze and the ravaging chakra that was threatening to burn through his skin.

Gritting his teeth, he pushed off the tree and continued on. He stumbled, half-hunched until he could go no further. He hoped he was far enough away. Glancing back, the glow of the village had disappeared beyond the ridges of a few dark hills. Far enough.

He crashed to the forest floor, hoping the cold leaves and damp earth might soothe him. But the superheated chakra would not be extinguished so easily. Rubbing his hand over the ache at his midsection, where he knew the seal must be glowing red hot by now. He breathed deeply and tried to relax every muscle in his body. They all ached and resisted, but he exhaled and tried again. Each time, brought him closer and closer to relief.

He closed his eyes. The only sound now was of his own blood thrumming in ears. His breathing began to modulate. Then slowly, slowly, the hand knotted in his shirt relaxed its grip.

"Konoha…" his mind whispered. But thankfully no more terrifying images of destruction came rushing forth.

Instead, only the pulsing of blood continued. It pounded softly in his ears, like distant footsteps.

"Konoha…"

Another picture appeared, carried in on a cloud of swirling, suffocating yellow dust.

A gust of wind ruffled Katsuro's hair, flicked up the edges of his cloak around where he had fallen asleep on the dark hillside. But he didn't feel it. He was no longer Katsuro. He was no longer there.

He was in Konoha, back where it all started.

Looking up the lane, the boy felt so small, so insignificant. A breeze kicked up the grit at his feet and lifted the shaggy yellow locks from his forehead. Another gust and the dust billowed around him, filling the lane and choking him out of existence.

Behind the cloud the pounding of footsteps continued, growing louder, moving steadily closer. For the boy in front of the orphanage, blinking into the blinding yellow dust, he could not know what the sound meant. At that moment, he was on a collision course with the horrible, inescapable truth of his existence.

On the hillside, Katsuro grimaced. A thin sheen of perspiration glistened on his forehead. In sleep, he turned his head and tightened a fist. But there was no escaping this memory. It was his own, and it was opening before him like an unhealed wound.

He was powerless to stop it.

* * *

**Author's notes:**

Finally, right? I very nearly broke this chapter into three, just to be able to post something. But I really wanted to keep it together as I think it just works better that way, so sorry about the delay. Anyway, hope you enjoyed this super-long chapter! Next ones won't be as long, but that means they'll get posted a lot sooner.

I was so happy about the positive response to the sneak preview chapter (ch. 26). Plucking a scenario out of the future storyline and presenting it with no explanation as to how everyone got there could have really bombed! But I'm so glad everyone enjoyed it and that it didn't wreck the story for anyone.

Thanks so so so so much for the positive reviews and feedback. They mean the world to me. On a personal note, in the middle of a very busy summer, I went to a international dance festival hosted here in the mountains of North Carolina every year. (I live in Asheville, NC.) This year, I got to see performers from Burundi, Finland, Trinidad, Sardinia, Croatia and Guadalupe, among others. Each year, it's whole different amazing set of performers who work, raise money and journey here to perform, and they come from all over the world. Literally. (Pick a country, I've probably seen a dance troupe from there!) So as I watched this summer, I thought about how many different countries show up on as having read this story, and how much I appreciate being part of something larger than my little corner of the world. Thanks so much. Now back to the story!

As always, read and review, and check the website for spoilers, notes and updates.

* * *

**Chapter notes:**

So this chapter begins to bring full circle the theme that nothing is as it appears. Next chapter is all about Katsuro, and how is he the way he is.

• _He should have known things would go wrong when he took on a mission dealing with brothers._ — yeah, little joke about Kasturo/Naruto's dealings with the Uchiha brothers.

• _One was the contact, one was the target. But Itachi's instructions were specific: the target, the fatter, older brother and clan head, was to receive the money. The thinner, younger one was only to provide access to the elder. _— So, I've tried to create a believable structure as to how Itachi's group functions, as part of the backstory. Based on mob and yakuza hierarchies. Fuller explanation in the next chapter, as it deals with Katsuro specifically.

• The younger brother and the charming politician are similar, and Sakura and Katsuro's situations are similar. Both men are manipulative and sexually suggestive. Both Sakura and Katsuro are youths/teens in an adult world. Nothing bad happens, but I want to convey the dangers that exist outside the shinobi world. These men are very much like the wolf-in-sheep's-clothing type. They are opportunists, which can be every bit as dangerous as assassins.

• _His eyes shined blue with reflected light._ — yeah, Naruto's blue eyes. Love to slip those in.

• _Skidding back down the path, he turned and leapt to the tiled roof, then followed the spine of the building as it zigzagged around the complex. One foot in front of the other, head low, he watched the inside of the compound for the family suites…._— So, instead of going straight for jutsus, I'm having Katsuro rely on traditional shinobi espionage skills as well. This way, when he does use the powers he has naturally, it really seems powerful. Plus, there are tons of stories with power-packed jutsus, and not so many with traditional skills. So I'm trying to write about Naruto's skills from a different angle.

• _Moving swiftly to the long covered porch, he padded down the boards towards the family rooms. His footfalls on the glossed wood were completely soundless._ — So hopefully you realized that this was the counterpart to Sakura's nightingale floor scene from the chapter before. _Katsuro_ is the reason people put in these kinds of floors!

• _Katsuro shifted his feet apart just slightly, digging in his stance. He felt more in control than he had in days. _— parallel themes to when Sakura confronts the kids in the alley. (_She left off that giving a good beating to a bunch of punks who clearly deserved it was the perfect remedy to the shattering self doubt she'd been thrown into after the trade meeting. This was her element._)They both have been out of their element, and relish the chance to get back to the physical stuff they are so very good at.

• _"Oh yes," he laughed. "Just as you said, it is easy enough to see when you know what to look for." His gaze sharpened, slipping over her face, her hair._ — This is an oblique reference to some of Itachi's manipulations. In Chapter 24, Itachi says to Katsuro: _"It's so easy, isn't it. Just find what someone wants most, and there you have them."_ So the politician is not a villain, but he is definitely an opportunist, looking for people's weak spots just as Itachi does. Small but intentional shade on the politician's character.

• _This new trail looped around behind the centerpiece of the garden, an artificial hillock with a decorative shrine at the top, and wound up where her diplomat was in discussion._ — Loosely patterned the garden from a visit to the Japanese Tea Garden in San Francisco. Sadly had to leave out the moon bridge, though. I couldn't do it justice.

• _"I wouldn't take his flattery too seriously if I were you," the diplomat said cooly as they began to walk again. "Whatever he offers will come at a price." He cut his eyes to her, looking her over once. "But perhaps, even with all your weapons, you are still too young to understand the ways of the world."_ — It's never delved into in the manga, but these Naruto, Sakura, etc., are kids. There are plenty of adult situations where physical prowess won't make a difference. So even though they are prodigies in their field, they would still be at a disadvantage in other arenas. Here, her diplomat is cruel in a very real-world way, basically saying she doesn't realize she's being toyed with. Which unfortunately was true.

• _"Why don't I get us something to eat," she said, grinning. "I saw a ramen stand a few blocks back. Do you like ramen?" He shrugged. Sakura filled in the blanks: He'd never had it. "Well, you'll love it." _— this was the bit that was foreshadowed in reverse from the preview. In this story, Sakura introduces him to ramen.

• _She knew he didn't want to, she knew he was a better person than that. But he was shackled to this life with Itachi. Well, she could break him free. She could give him a new life, protect him. He'd never have to go back to the hell of being with Itachi again._ — Mirrors the justifications Katsuro gave when he was going to ask Itachi if she could stay with them in camp. First sign that their roles are reversing. Sakura wants him to come home with her, and sees him as the person that he is not. She doesn't see the negative. Just like Katsuro thought she could just give up Konoha and join their group, he discounts how tenaciously loyal she is. Sakura is discounting how tenaciously loyal he is to Itachi.

• _Katsuro cracked his eyes open, desperate to get away. But the woods wavered in front of him, red seeping into the black spaces between the trees, delineating them. He blinked, and the whole hillside appeared before him, in perfect definition as if lit by a blood-red sun. Shit. He rubbed his eyes, ignoring the burn. He blinked again, and the forest returned to inky black. But the red tinge was slowly creeping back in._ — I'm writing the kyuubi's chakra as being much more animalistic. In the alley, it was "ready to pounce" and gave Katsuro an eyeshine like a predator. Here, he sees things the way a fox might see them. Well, a demon fox anyway. I'm going for the more horrifying aspect of having a demon trapped inside, not just the super power it gives him. That it's frightening, even to Katsuro sometimes.

• _He moved away from her at the sound. The orange glow from the village lights clung to his outline, but in two steps, even that had faded._ — yep, there's another one. The orange glow referencing Naruto's favorite color. Reading it again, it could also be taken that the part of him she sees and believe in is moving away from her. Didn't write it intentionally like that, but it works!

• _The wind picked up again. "You're not like them," she called after him, hand on a tree for support. His faint outline dissolved into the black. "You don't belong with them" she yelled, willing her voice to carry into the silent treetops. "Katsuro," she called into the darkness, emptying her lungs. _— So this moment is where the "Voice in the Wind" title comes from.


	28. The Stolen Child, Part 1

Ch 28 - The Stolen Child, Part 1

I wonder in what field today  
wanders my little dragonfly chaser.  
—haiku by Chiyo, on the death of her only son at age 9

* * *

_From Chapter 27:_

_He closed his eyes. The only sound now was of his own blood thrumming in ears. His breathing began to modulate. Then slowly, slowly, the hand knotted in his shirt relaxed its grip._

"_Konoha…" his mind whispered. But thankfully no more terrifying images of destruction came rushing forth._

_Instead, only the pulsing of blood continued. It pounded softly in his ears, like distant footsteps._

"_Konoha…"_

_Another picture appeared, carried in on a cloud of swirling, suffocating yellow dust._

_A gust of wind ruffled Katsuro's hair, flicked up the edges of his cloak around where he had fallen asleep on the dark hillside. But he didn't feel it. He was no longer Katsuro. He was no longer there._

_He was in Konoha, back where it all started._

* * *

The dust puffed and swirled, and for a moment, everything was lost behind it's yellow haze. Only the steady thrum remained. Then, slowly, the cloud lifted.

Sun streaked down in front of the old orphanage, warming the dusty sidewalk. Sickly trees sprouted from two large planters, peppering the ground with shade. And it was there, tucked into the angled blue shadow at the base of one of the planters, that a slip of boy crouched excitedly.

He wiped the shaggy blond locks from his eyes and listened hard. The steady pounding grew closer. He grinned.

Even at that distance he could tell the people approaching were ninjas by their distinctive pattern of walk. It wasn't the hurrying shuffle of villagers, the relentless clopping of the teachers or the jerky patter of the other children. This smooth, uniform gait was always a giveaway. And the boy had studied enough ninjas from the low windows of the orphanage to know the sound of one passing by, even at night.

He leaned his head against the planter, a fat stick clutched to his chest. His trusty kunai. As a spy on a secret mission, he couldn't be without it. And the rhythmic grind of footsteps was nearly upon him.

Pretending it was of the utmost importance, he took his best guess as to how many were approaching. He curled out three chubby fingers and waited. The sound passed behind him. Slowly, he tipped his head out, watching the road to see if he was right.

Sure enough, three men strode by, real kunai jingling in their pouches. Their laughter was low and masculine, and their whispered voices conveyed all manner of interesting things. He wished he could hear it. Probably about missions, and who's the strongest, and how many enemies they defeated, and—

"Oi! Sneaking around like that will get you in trouble."

A fourth shinobi's face materialized above the planter through a ring of smoke. He was tall and silver haired, and looked mildly irritated. He took one last drag off his cigarette before stamping it out in the planter, eyes never leaving the child's face.

The boy scrambled to his feet and stared open-mouthed at the shinobi. It was the closest he'd ever been to one.

The shinobi, however, was unimpressed. His eyes flicked from the kid to the small red plaque by the door that read "Children's Home." He snorted.

"Take off runt. You'll get me in trouble if your caught out here."

But the boy finally found his voice. "No I won't. Cause they don't know I'm out here." His face shone with delight. "I snuck out!"

The shinobi rolled his eyes, glancing around for his companions. He looked again at the door in exasperation. Didn't they care that a child had escaped?

"Hey, hey are you going on a mission?" The boy looked him up and down, bouncing on the balls of his feet. "Have you ever fought anyone? Where are your weapons?" He clutched the stick — his trusty kunai — proudly to his chest. "I'm going to be a ninja too!"

But the shinobi only scoffed distractedly. "Get lost kid. You'll never be a ninja." He craned his neck toward the door. Still no one. He'd have to drag the little ankle-biter back inside himself. Then he'd give them a piece of his mind—

"Yeah I am," the boy kept on, undeterred. "I'll go to ninja school, then I'll go on missions, and then—"

The shinobi laughed outright, really looking at the kid for the first time. Just an unkempt scrap of a boy with a mop of dirty-blond hair. "You? At the academy? They don't let riffraff in there. And you're nothing special…."

But even as the words left his mouth, his careless expression sharpened. There was something on the boy's cheeks. Something unmistakeable.

The shinobi leaned down to grab the child's face. But before he could get him, the boy kicked out as hard as he could. Shooting pain eclipsed everything. The ninja clutched his shin, swearing savagely, while the kid skittered back out of reach.

At a safe distance, the boy watched the shinobi. His face was firm with childish determination, and his hands balled into fists.

It had been the same when some of the older boys picked on him about his "silly dream." He wanted to be a ninja, more than anything. And he wouldn't give it up, not even when the kids started to pummel him. He fought back, swinging and kicking. It must have worked too, because now those boys barely looked at him.

And whether it was those stupid boys or even a real, live ninja, he wouldn't give it up. He'd find a way. Wasn't that what being a ninja was all about?

The boy harrumphed his determination, tightening the fist around his stick-kunai until his knuckles were white.

"I'm going to be a ninja! And I'll go to the ninja school! Just you wait!"

Still clutching his leg, the silver-haired shinobi leveled a ferocious look at the kid.

"You little shit," he growled. "You're not going to be a ninja."

Then, before the boy could blink, the shinobi lunged forward and caught his face, squeezing it painfully.

The boy's blue eyes went wide with shock, then fear. The man was closely inspecting his cheeks. The three lines on each side that were getting darker each year. They marked him as different, and he didn't know why.

But somehow, this man did.

"I can't believe it…." He turned the boy's head from side to side, roughly thumbing the marked skin.

The boy squirmed, trying to free his head from the painful vice-grip. His eyes were watering. He was starting to panic. Desperately he turned his face into the fleshy hand and sank his teeth into anything he could get.

The shinobi yelped and let go in an instant. The boy leapt back, unsure if he could make it to the safety of the fenced in yard or the front doors before the man could—

"You can't fool me," the shinobi said, straightening. He rubbed his hand, eyes flashing angrily at the boy. "I know who you are…Na-ru-to."

Fists still tight, little Naruto watched the man warily. But any thought of running was forgotten. How did he know his name? No one called him by his name…. No one called him by _anything_….

The shinobi snorted at kid's stubborn resilience. He half-expected the brat to scamper off when he had the chance. But now, he'd teach him a lesson.

"They'll never let you near the academy," the man taunted, eyes narrowing. "Why would they? I know your little secret…. You're the _demon child_."

He rubbed his hand significantly before continuing. "And _I_ am a teacher at the academy. So, I'll be watching for you. And I will _personally_ make sure you don't even get near…uh, the school…."

The shinobi's voice thinned. He wanted to punish the kid, wipe that defiant look off his scruffy little face. But the boy looked up as if he'd spoken another language.

Blinking, Naruto gaped like a fish. His small fists loosened, the will to fight forgotten. He shook his head in utter confusion.

"Wh-What? What do you mean? I don't understand…. "

The silver-haired shinobi threw his head back with laughter. "You mean…no one's told you? What a joke!"

"Told me what?"

The man leaned closer. His voice was low and poisonous.

"That you're the container for a demon." His eyes glinted with wicked delight. "I've seen the scroll with my own eyes. That's why you're hidden away here." He waved a hand at the orphanage. "And these people were forced to take you. No one wanted _that _burden. Who would?"

He glanced back at the kid, slack-faced under the weight of the revelation.

"You're lucky you're here, though," the shinobi continued, rubbing his sore hand and looking the kid up and down. "You ought to be locked in a cell," he sneered.

The uniform grind of another set of footsteps echoed around the corner. This time, Naruto didn't hear it.

However the man in front of him did. And as much as he hated kids, he hated getting caught even more. He massaged the sore spot, pissed that this little upstart managed to injure him twice. Demon or not, he'd killed men for less than that.

"You'll never be a Konoha ninja," he declared, jabbing a finger into Naruto's lifeless shoulder, rocking the boy. "Now _fuck off._"

The other shinobi jogged up behind him, never hearing the parting shot. He gave the silver-haired man a good-natured shove.

"Leave him alone, Mizuki," the newcomer said, shooting a squinty smile at the object of Mizuki's badgering. "Don't listen to him, kid," he said, nodding back at his teammate. "You can be whatever you want."

He gave the kid a quick thumbs up, his broad grin wrinkling the bandage that stretched across his face.

But behind him, Mizuki shook his head ruthlessly.

His companion didn't notice. "Come on," he said, tugging Mizuki's arm. "The others are already there. And if we're late, the good students will already be assigned…."

The conversation faded away with the thudding of their footsteps. They turned out of the lane, never looking back.

Numbed to his core, Naruto stood frozen on the sidewalk. Blond hair gently ruffled across his forehead.

_It couldn't be true…. Could it?_

Just then, a hot wind pushed down the lane, flapping his clothes, rattling the dead leaves at his feet and stirring up clouds of yellow dust from the road. He blinked against it and closed his dry mouth.

_Was this why he was here? In an orphanage? No one wanted him because he was…he was...a demon?_

He swallowed hard.

An old woman scuttled by, clutching a small package, the breeze blowing at her back. She cut a wary glance at the boy, brought the parcel protectively to her chest and continued briskly down the lane.

He stared into the dull quiet left in the wake of the breeze. He felt…_wounded_. But he knew he couldn't be because the ninja had barely touched him.

Slowly he opened his palm, staring at the fat stick clutched there. It was no longer his trusty kunai.

It was as if the shinobi had infected him with these new thoughts. Nothing made sense to him now. He opened his fingers and let the stick clatter to the ground.

Slowly he turned, went up the steps and slipped back through the front door. He didn't even try to hide the obvious fact that he'd been outside the compound.

And that was when he first noticed it….

The teacher who surely saw him coming through the door, but turned her back, ignoring him instead of punishing him. The darkly suspicious looks of the older boys in the hall, the same ones who had pummeled him, but now avoided him completely. The children scattering into the rooms almost as soon as they caught his eye. Their laughter continued beyond the closed doors, but no one ever stepped out to include him in their play.

It had always been this way, he thought, turning down a long empty hall.

But now, the brutal words of the shinobi came back to him. _They were forced to take him. No one wanted him._

No. It couldn't be true, he thought fiercely. He pushed back the door to the play yard, more determined than ever to rejoin his class.

Yet as the weeks passed, the words haunted him.

He tried harder to play with the children in the dusty yard. But they stayed away from him. He tried to ignore it, sitting silently under the lone tree, picking up one of the toys they'd left behind. He watched them go, knowing that if he followed to join their game of tag they would only decamp to somewhere else. They always did. He looked down at the toys, barely seeing them through his tears.

Some injustices, however, couldn't be ignored.

The teachers often supplemented their normal rations with some little sweets. Yet no matter how hard he tried, Naruto never seemed to be able to push to the front in time. The bag of candy was forever running out. And hopeful child that he was, he never once thought it was intentional.

This time, at the outer perimeter of the group, watching the waving hands begging to be filled with treats, Naruto forced himself to stay put. If the teacher ever noticed him, he didn't see it. She swept her eyes over the group then twisted the sack closed and moved on to other lessons, never once looking at the sad blond child in the back. He bit his lip, trying to still his wobbling chin.

A ninja wouldn't cry, he told himself, dragging his sleeve over face. A ninja wouldn't care about the teacher, or the other kids…or their stupid candy. And as they went off to play, he sat on the step and buried his head in his arms. If they didn't want him, then he would just stay away, he muttered to himself despite the hot tears.

But he discovered the more he distanced himself from the teachers, the children, everyone, the more desperate he became for any scrap of attention.

And sometimes he just couldn't take it anymore.

Like the day when Naruto decided he'd force the kids to accept him, no matter what. He plopped down in the the dust beneath the tree, right in the center of their make-believe world. Some of the kids shifted their things, glancing nervously at him and backing away. Naruto scooted closer, grabbing some of the favorite toys to keep the children from leaving. It didn't work. Their big eyes met his for only a moment before drifting to the dark lines on his cheeks. Something like fear always twisted their round faces when they looked at those lines, those strange lines, that no one else had. And that decided it. The children abandoned their toys to him.

"Play with me," he yelled at their retreating backs. But the padding feet never stopped. Their little heads never looked back. Left alone in splotched shade with their playthings, Naruto sobbed quietly.

After that, his blue eyes dulled. No longer did they sparkle with hope, with his irrepressible good nature. No longer did he lift his eyes to the children or the teachers. He couldn't stand to see their expressions change as their gaze moved, inevitably, to his marked cheeks.

What did they feel? Fear? Hatred? It was like they knew what they ninja had said…that there was something wrong with him. He didn't want to think about it. He kept his eyes on the floor and told himself it didn't matter.

He knew it was lie though. And the troubled feelings refused to stay buried.

Waiting in front of the last bed, at the end of the long line of identical beds, Naruto was the last child in a long line of children. They all stood politely, hands extended, waiting for their weekly parcel of laundry and clothes. He slid his gaze down the line, watching the woman drop the neatly folded garments, stopping to chat with each beaming child. Sometimes it was a kind word, sometimes a pat on the head. Even for the boy who hid tacks in everyones shoes. Everyone's except his, of course.

As she slowly drew closer, he could make out her quiet words of encouragement. But this time for Naruto, the praises kindled a little fire inside. He knew her kindness only went so far.

Holding out his hands dutifully, she dropped the parcel without a word, without even a glance. But instead of staring at the pile of folded whites until his tears blurred everything together, Naruto looked up at her face defiantly.

She stepped away faster than she normally did, as if sensing his eyes boring into her.

"Speak to me," he demanded.

At this, she slowly lifted her head to meet his gaze. Down the line the children watched in wide-eyed silence.

"Ungrateful thing," she hissed and fixed him with a devastating frown.

Naruto blinked in confusion. He wasn't ungrateful. He just wanted…just wanted….

The burn of anger left him. He stared down at his stack of laundry, actually sorry for speaking out. The parcel dissolved beyond his tears. The woman turned and left, her shoes clacking loudly down the length of the room.

After that, Naruto decided it must have been the mean ninja. It all started with him. He snuck out of the orphanage several more times, hoping to catch just a glimpse of the man. Naruto saw himself jabbing the stick-kunai into his chest, demanding to be released from this curse he'd been placed under. But all the times he crouched behind the planter, sat at the edge of the steps, or sprawled out behind the low decorative walls at either side of the entrance, no one ever passed by. He never saw the man again.

And strangely, no one from the orphanage ever bothered him either. At first he thought no one saw him. But one day, lining up sticks in a row, pleased with how many "kunai" he'd managed to forage from under a tree, he realized he'd been out in the open for at least an hour. Maybe two. Surely _someone_ should have noticed him missing. And the front hall was busy enough _someone_ would have seen a kid playing in front of the building, not behind it.

But maybe no one was watching. He reordered the sticks, shortest to longest, mind wandering. Right now, the other kids might be at lunch or doing an activity. He looked at the dark door of the building. Wouldn't they have seen his empty seat?

Another thought occurred, sinking into him like a stone. Maybe it's worse…maybe they didn't care. Maybe they really didn't want him. Maybe one day they hoped he'd be gone for good.

The words of the shinobi echoed back to him. He was a demon. No one wanted him.

He looked over the line of sticks. It meant nothing to him now. Standing quickly he knocked them into disarray, but it didn't matter anymore. He felt as worthless as they were. Quietly he slipped back inside and returned to his group.

The children were just gathering for scrolls practice. Naruto folded himself into the back of the line and held out his hand for a scroll. There was still a flutter of hope that his absence was noticed, but the scroll was dropped heavily into his hand without remark.

Without a word, Naruto took his seat at the end of the long table.

The teacher walked around, nodding and checking the progress, listening to recitations and quietly correcting mistakes. She busily attended to the others, her back was always turned to the small blond boy at the far end of the table.

Naruto stared unseeing at the scroll in front of him, little fingers rolling the tubed end back and forth.

_What if the teacher knew what the ninja knew. What if everyone else did too. They knew there was something wrong with him. All this time. And he was the only one who didn't. _

The injustice of it burned within him. He wouldn't accept the words of the ninja. He wasn't any different. He was just like all the rest. He wanted to scream it at the others, at the teacher. If only she would just turn around…. But she wouldn't. She'd would not come to his end of the table because she was ignoring him completely.

It was only when she turned, moving back down the line of children and away from him, that Naruto's anger propelled him to his feet.

A few children glanced over warily. The teacher's soft voice broke off. Her hand stilled at the scroll on the table. Under her arm, the round, dark eyes of the student she was helping peered back at him. Slowly she straightened, smoothing down the sides of her clothes.

"Return to your studies," she said in a hard voice. "There is nothing to see."

Naruto stared at her rigid back, the frustration and fear of the past weeks coalescing to a blaze within him.

"Look at me!" This time there were no tears.

The teacher turned finally, looking severe, ready to lash out at him as she did any insolent child. But her gaze fell on his cheeks. The sharp reprimand died on her tongue. Coldly, she turned away.

Naruto couldn't take it anymore. With one heaving breath, he crushed his eyes shut and screamed the words that had plagued him.

"I am not a monster!"

There was barely enough time for the gasps to echo around the room before he was rocked by an open-handed slap across the face.

Naruto teetered against the table in absolute shock. And in that moment of blinking uncertainty, when his face stung and his eyes burned and he didn't know whether he was standing or falling…_something_ crackled to life within him.

Then, everything slowed. The teacher looked directly into his face, mouth opening and closing, but her voice never reached him. The children leaned away, faces wrought with fear. His ears pounded and his gut ached. But the room…the room…. The edges of the room were beginning to bleed. A strange red color seeped across everything, surrounding him. Naruto knew with deep certainty it wanted to drown him. He could feel it's tug as it slipped over his shoes, pulling him under—

Naruto clutched his head, wishing it would stop…begging it to stop….

_"Stop it! Do you hear me?"_

Suddenly, the teacher's shrieking filled the air in front of him. Naruto opened his eyes slowly. Everything was back. Or, he was back. The tide had receded and left him alive. He nearly cried with relief.

But the look on the teacher's pale face squelched his little flicker of happiness. She was afraid. _Terrified._

Naruto rubbed a small hand over the spot on his belly that still hurt. Like he'd been burned there. He didn't understand. Why was she looking at him? Didn't it happen to them too?

Without another word, the teacher herded the children out of the room. Naruto was left standing there, alone.

He wasn't sure what to do. But something in the teacher's look made him feel that he was not to follow.

Were they afraid of…of…_him?_

A fierce clack of shoes ricocheted down the hall. Naruto knew the sound: It was the headmistress of the orphanage. He'd only seen her a few times, but it was enough. She was quite stern and seemed to have a special hard spot for him. He nervously squeezed his hands together, hoping the footsteps would turn off.

But it didn't. The large woman wheeled around the corner, never looking at the boy, snatched up his arm and hauled him back down the hall. He struggled to keep up. Turning corner after corner, passing glossy halls until he was nearly dizzy, Naruto had a good guess where they were going.

"Silent time" was reserved for the older boys, the ones who had been there the longest. They had no hope of leaving, so they filled their days making trouble and pulling pranks. Naruto was once a prime target of their torment, but it stopped suddenly. He suspected it was the "silent time" that did it. They must have learned how to be quiet, although they were just as unmerciful as ever to the other children.

Still, the thought of being punished for something he didn't do — something that had scared him too — filled his small chest with fear.

The stopped at a narrow door on a hallway he'd never seen. He would have thought he was in another building, if not for the musty closed-in smell that clung to everything in the orphanage.

Letting go of his arm for a moment, the headmistress jostled through her keys. She cut a mean look down at him, threatening him not to run. But Naruto would not run. There was no where to run to….

"Never should have happened" she muttered to herself, throwing back the door. A dank smell rushed out. Peering around her into the narrow room, Naruto saw a single low cot and nothing else. The only light came from a thin window at the top of the wall. And that was covered with a metal grate. Was this where they learned how to be quiet? It looked more like a jail cell to him. He bit his lip nervously.

Shuffling in, the woman propped out the window, shoving an old stick through one of the holes in the grate. She smacked the bed once, sending up dust into the single slant of light, then bustled out.

She gave the boy a shove into the room, and Naruto thought that was to be all. He would just wait here until he was quiet enough, when to his surprise she spoke.

"I don't know how you found out, but it didn't come from me," she whispered harshly, pulling the door closed. "I told him I'd only take you until something more," she paused, her sharp eyes falling on his cheeks, "_suitable_ could be found. This was never supposed to be your home." The door shut with a click.

He heard the faint jingle of keys, the receding clack of her shoes, and then there was nothing.

Standing unmoving in the little room, Naruto wished for the second time in his little life that he hadn't listened, that he hadn't heard. Because it was the same as what the ninja had said.

They didn't want him. They never did. There _was_ something wrong with him.

He didn't know how long he'd stood in the same spot before finally staggering over to the little bed. Falling back, tears welling, he desperately wished it wasn't true. He wished he could just disappear, like the bed or some other piece of furniture that no one saw. Something that people liked and didn't have marks on its face. Marks that wouldn't go away, no matter how hard he scrubbed.

He rubbed his cheeks till they were red. But he knew the lines would still be there. Hopeless and sore, he flopped out his arms. Tears streaked down into his pale yellow hair, but he didn't try to stop them. What the man said…it must be true….

Later that night, someone left a tray with food. But Naruto was to weary to eat it. He was tired from crying, and the lingering ache at his midsection robbed him of hunger. He watched the window until sleep claimed him. By morning, however, his hunger had returned, and he ate the whole bowl.

The following night, since no one else had ever come, except to slide in meals, he decided this wasn't the room where you were _taught_ how to be quiet. It was where you went to _be _quiet. They shut you up in there so you wouldn't bother anyone.

He flung his arm over his eyes, trying to keep out the awful thought of being cooped up. Locked away, as the ninja had said. He turned on the rough cot, burying himself under the pillow, and cried until he was exhausted.

But the thoughts preyed on him. Even in dreams….

Years later, it would be the heartbeat — the deep, relentless pounding — that he would remember. But at that moment, in the terrifying black expanse of his nightmare, Naruto was more aware of the water lapping over at shoes than anything else. It was so dark in the cavernous room he could barely see it. But he could feel the warmth seeping over his feet.

Where was he? He couldn't remember anything….yet he knew he shouldn't be here.

It was only when he sloshed toward the dim light ahead of him that the dreadful noise started. A deep, resonant thudding came from everywhere at once. It reaching into the black heights of the room and thrummed right through him.

In a panic, he ran towards the flickering light. The pounding filled his ears, growing louder with each splashing step. The water grew deeper. By the time he stopped, it pooled at his ankles.

There was no point in going on. At the end of the long hall was a gate. Light bent and jumped off the gold bars.

He sobbed once at the sight of it, utterly defeated. _Had they really locked him up?_

"Help," he wailed. "Someone! Anyone! Help me!"

He listened hard, but there was no response. Only the steady thrum in his ears and the slow dripping of water. But beneath that was another sound: a constant, low rattling. Like breathing. He fought the urge to shudder. At his feet the water was growing uncomfortably warm.

Naruto staggered toward the bars, certain now he was behind them. He stopped, looking up at the lock mechanism with despair. It was so high, and he was so, so small.

Naruto peered through the bars into the darkness. Had everyone forgotten about him? Thrown him away? But he had done nothing wrong….

A low growl drowned out the pounding. Terror twisted his gut. He wasn't alone. He peered over his shoulder into the darkness.

_Something was behind him. They'd locked him in here with a monster._

There was another deep growl, then the water surged. Searing heat rushed through the bars, blasting his face. Naruto squinted against it, blocking the scalding air with his hands.

Miraculously, he heard a sound that made his heart leap. The slow whine of a door swinging open filled the space. Someone had found him!

Throwing his arm up against the blinding heat, Naruto slogged wildly toward the bars. Black waves slapped against him, dragging on his legs, trying to pull him down. He pitched forward as hard as he could, but it felt like the water had turned to tar.

Suddenly, the door swung back with a long, slow scrape.

_No! It was closing!_

Naruto screamed vainly at it to stop, but his voice was drowned out by the relentless pounding that seemed to be everywhere now. It was pulsing through the water, closing in on him. He knew if he didn't get out now, he was going to be trapped in there with a monster. Locking him away like _he_ was the monster.

_No! If they didn't hear him, then he'd just have to make it out before the door closed! _

Eyes crushed shut, Naruto summoned all his strength and threw himself at the gate. The thrumming stopped, and the water released him from its grip. And for a stab of a second, Naruto thought he'd made it through.

But suddenly the door clanged shut. The fall of the lock echoed heavily through the darkness.

Naruto knew before he even connected with the bars that he was too late. He didn't make it. He was trapped, thrown away, lost…forever.

He crashed into the gate, face, shoulders and chest crumpling against it.

It was cold…and hard…. And flat.

And it really, _really_ hurt.

Slowly, Naruto cracked open his eyes. Grey light filled his vision. He blinked at the blurry image until he realized it was the disorienting angle of where the wall met the floor.

Sucking in a breath, Naruto pushed off the floor in groggy confusion. Sheets tumbled from the bed, tangled around his ankles. He was drenched in sweat.

Beside the door was a tray of food. Curls of steam wound up in the early morning light.

He pulled his feet out and sat on the floor for a moment, just staring.

_Was it really just a dream?_

He patted down his clothes. There were no traces of anything he'd experienced. His feet and legs were dry, and his arms were surprisingly cool to the touch. It wasn't real, he thought with no small amount of relief. It couldn't be.

Cautiously happy, Naruto was just standing to retrieve his food when an ache shot through his gut. He clenched his stomach and hunched over. It was as if he'd been wrung in the middle like an old towel. Slowly, carefully, he straightened. Lifting his shirt, he inspected his pale little belly, but there was nothing there. Not a mark. He let the shirt fall, he couldn't understand it.

The scent of food wafted in the shifting air, and his stomach suddenly growled. Strangely, that made him feel more like himself again. One thing he did know, he was always hungry.

Moving gingerly, he took up the food and sat back down to eat, doing his best to forget the terrifying dream.

The rest of his time in the room passed uneventfully. He never had another dream, and the most exciting thing to happen was when a nest of baby spiders erupted in the window frame.

He laid in the cot, watching their slow progress, and thought about everything that had happened to him. He thought and thought and thought. When the last spider flew, carried off on one of the little breezes that never quite reached down into the room, Naruto turned on his side. Alone again, he stared at the wall until the light faded.

The next morning, the headmistress brought his bowl and a stern message: He may rejoin his class, but another outburst and she would go to the Hokage himself to find another place for him.

He never lifted his head. He complied without a word. And before he knew it, he was marching back down the halls of the orphanage to the wing that was the only home he'd ever known.

Naruto may have returned to the life he knew before, but he came back a different child. The silence of the room clung to him.

The teachers no longer made any effort to include him or scold him when he didn't keep up. And for the children, being punished whether he deserved it or not, proved that there was something wrong with the blond boy no one seemed to like. It wasn't just the whispers of the adults.

Naruto said nothing. He no longer hoped for a scrap of attention. He ate silently, followed the class without participating, accepted his clothing parcels without issue. Before long, the drama and punishment were forgotten. He was forgotten. He floated through his days. He may as well have been a ghost.

In the evenings, Naruto sat in the lone swing under the play-yard tree. Dragging out little arcs in the dust with his feet, he watched as the lights went off one by one in the building. He'd press his forehead against the cold metal chain. No one ever came to bring him in.

Hours after nightly stories he would pad down the long room, past the rows of beds on either side, each one rumpled and full. The last bed in the corner was empty and untouched. It never looked slept in anyway. And truly, it wasn't.

Never changing clothes, Naruto crawled into the top of the bed, sliding under the covers. If anyone had cared to look, there wouldn't have been much to see: Just a little ball, perfectly still, curled at the top of the otherwise untouched bed.

Occasional tremors shook the messy hair that poked above the blanket edge. It was the only sign that the boy beneath cried himself to sleep every night. Cried until his stomach hurt, until his eyes burned, until sheer exhaustion would claim him.

He hated the night time, when he was powerless to stop his racing thoughts. He'd remember what the ninja said, what the teacher said. He'd remembered that horrifying dream and the very real ache at his gut. Sometimes he thought he could still feel it, if he cried hard enough.

He tried his hardest not to think that. But the confusing words of the ninja melded with the terrifying dream. Was he to be locked away with a monster? Or was _he_ the monster…the demon-child like the man said. There was always the looming thought that tomorrow might be the day, the day when they came for him, locking him away just like in his dream. And if not tomorrow, then surely the next day. He shook his head, desperate to rid himself of these ideas.

Sometimes the children would still be awake long after lights out. To keep the nightmarish thoughts at bay, Naruto would sometimes listen to their chattering. But it didn't make him feel much better. Little sing-song voices would rippled through the night air, sharing their hopes and dreams, wishing for toys or sweets…or parents.

But under the suffocating darkness of the blanket, Naruto had nothing to wish for. He wanted none of those things. They wouldn't make him happy. The one thing he wanted was gone. He'd never be a ninja. The silver-haired man said he'd make sure of it.

So instead, he wished that the orphanage was gone. Through his tears, he wished that the world was gone.

In this way his days and weeks blurred together. The days of numbed silence would end with him balled at the top of his bed, just wishing that the world would sweep over him, forgetting he was there.

But sniffling into his pillow late one night, Naruto wished that _he_ was gone, instead of the orphanage. He imagined running through the front doors and never turning back. He'd just run and run.

Naruto lifted his head and blinked into the darkness. The thought broke through his haze of tears. He didn't even know what else was out there. Beyond the orphanage it was just a great big nothing.

The next evening, feet dangling under the swing, Naruto turned his head away from the glowing lights of the building and looked at the section of metal fence that separated the orphanage from the buildings around it. Naruto looked at the world outside as if seeing it for the first time. And really, he was.

The open side of the courtyard was blocked in by other buildings, the backs of which were windowless and decrepit. Only a narrow lane and the old fence marked the boundary of the orphanage play yard. And the children were strictly forbidden to go near the fence.

But now, rocking back and forth on the swing, Naruto looked at his surroundings as if a blindfold had been removed. He studied every crack in the walls, every sagging roof tile. Thin, ink-black alleys disappeared between the buildings, and he strained to make out shapes in the darkness.

Swinging out again Naruto thought he saw a crack of light at the end of one of the alleys. He kicked off the ground, pushing the swing out a little farther. There it was!

At just the right angle, a ribbon of golden light clung to the edge of a building. A soft smile crept up Naruto's face, dimpling his round cheeks. He felt like he'd discovered some hidden treasure.

Night after night he he would watch the light dip in and out of his vision. He would swing until he forgot all about the orphanage, the children and the teachers, the ninja and the dream. It was only him and that little slip of light, triumphing over the dark edge of an unforgiving building.

Sometimes, if he fixed his eyes on the spot long enough, he could just make out little glittering objects zinging through the darkness. They lit up like shooting stars in the golden light. Hair swaying gently in the breeze from the swing, he felt like he got a breath of fresh air when he saw the little scrap of light.

The front of the orphanage was not his, with its big dusty road and the heat-scorched trees in the planters. It was the realm of cruel ninjas and unforgivable secrets.

But this little blue-black world was all his. Naruto liked to imagine that he could tumble down between those inky walls and disappear into that golden light at the end. It disappeared during the day, but at night it shone like a gateway. Naruto thought if he could just slip through that crack, he would keep running and no one would ever stop him, ever find him. He'd be free.

And one night, desperate to escape the sounds of a party for the children inside the main building, he stepped off the swing and took a few tentative steps in the direction of the fence. He paused and glanced back at the building, the discomfort of disobedience weighed on him. But of course, no one appeared to scold him. They didn't care what he did. Taking a breath, he steeled his resolve and walked in a straight line from the swing toward the source of the light.

Curling chubby fingers around the metal fence, Naruto peered down the alley. Where the two blue-black buildings melted together there was a line of light streaking through. But he couldn't see it's source. Naruto bit his lip, bobbed his head, but he still couldn't get a better view.

He wanted to see more. Just a little more. He wanted to claim more of that shimmering golden light for himself. Naruto looked down at the rusted wire, readjusting his grip. And really, going out into this lane would be no different than sneaking out the front of the orphanage.

Satisfied, Naruto began toeing his way over the creaking old fence. Would he really fall through the crack as he had imagined, or would it open up onto a shiny new city that would not see him as the enemy? Whatever was over there, he was sure it would be better than where he was.

Feet slapped firmly on the pavement beyond the wire fence. Naruto rose up, nervous and exhilarated. A last quick glance around, and then he crossed the dim lane into the black alley way. He picked past wooden crates, rusted cans and other junk, avoiding the long streaks of puddles. He kept his eyes focused on the end of the alley, at the ever-widening crack of blue space between the two buildings. He was so close the edge of the building gleamed gold. Whatever was there, it must be wonderful. He hurriedly splashed down the alley through the rest of the puddles.

But rounding the corner dashed all his hopes. The golden light was just a faded old lantern, hanging limply beside a decrepit doorway. The faded design of a cherry branch arched across the lantern, its petals endlessly scattering around it. The golden light was from the yellowed paper, and the shooting stars were nothing more than bugs, incessantly hurling themselves at the cold light.

Naruto felt betrayed. His face fell into a deep wobbly frown and, trying not to cry, he kicked a rusted old can out onto the sidewalk in front of him. He wished he hadn't come. He liked the way he'd imagined it better than this harsh reality.

He refused to look at that light ever again. Heartbroken and not really thinking about what he was doing, Naruto stepped out from between the two buildings to retrieve the can. He leaned to pick it up, stubbornly wrenching his head away from the light and looking the opposite direction down the lane.

That's when he saw _it_. Gray and huge and looming between the break in the buildings at the end of the road. Naruto's little fingers never reached the rusted can. As if in a trance, he stood slowly and walked down the sidewalk, eyes riveted to the huge mass.

He turned with the lane, then down another, losing sight of it a few times. But it would always come back into view. Finally after going a few blocks, he rounded a corner into a narrow quiet lane and the sight filled his vision. Flat stones the seemed to grow out of the ground and stretched to the sky. He tipped his head back, looking all the way to the top. _It was the wall. _

Naruto moved toward it, remembering a fleeting mention of a walled village. But he always thought that was somewhere else. Not here. Then again, what did he know. Up until an hour ago, his world ended at the rusty metal fence.

Naruto stopped at the base and was nearly hidden in its cool shadow. He reached out a hand, running his palm over the smooth gray stones. Little plants grew from the cracks between the low stones, but they fell away as wall climbed higher. Looking up, Naruto saw bats flitting up the great expanse, twisting and turning, then soaring over the top and disappearing.

He put his cheek to the cold stone wall and closed his eyes, imagining what lay just beyond the wall. Just like at the end of the alley, he had no idea. It was all a dark expanse to him. He had no pictures in his mind to fill in the empty spaces.

Naruto spread out his fingers on the stone. He wished he were a bat. Then he could rise up, soar to the top and just fly away. No one would ever know.

Reluctantly he left the wall and made his way back to the orphanage. He kept to the shadows of buildings and avoided the gold light altogether. But it didn't trouble him as much as before. His mind was consumed with the wall.

Naruto dropped into bed and stretched out, yawning. He couldn't wait until tomorrow night when he could go back again. It was only in the last throes of wakefulness that he realized he hasn't cried himself to sleep. It was the first time in months. Mouth curled into a soft, sleepy smile, he nuzzled his head into the pillow and dropped immediately off into a deep sleep.

Every night, Naruto waited until the lights went down then snuck off for the wall. He liked to sit at the base of it, leaning back and looking straight up, pretending he could climb up over it and imagining what amazing things were on the other side. And the longer he sat there, the more an idea took hold. A terrifying, exciting idea. And when he returns to the orphanage long after the children have fallen asleep, he now he has something of his own to wish for. Deep down, this is what he wants more than anything….

Each night, instead of crying himself to sleep, he actively plans his escape.

It's too smooth to climb, so he doesn't even try. But there's got to be another way…. One night he drags a long metal pike from the alley, intent on digging his way out, but it's too unwieldy and the hole is too small. The next night he brings a stout stick, but the end eventually splinters away. And he can only get one foot in the hole.

The next night he found a flat wooden plank. It was sturdy and manageable. Naruto set to work immediately, digging and scraping with the stick. It was just the thing. He leaned in, enjoying the work. He'd have the hold dug in no time—

"Ah-hemmm…."

Naruto jumped back against the wall, looking breathlessly at the man who just cleared his throat so loudly behind him. How could someone get so close to him without making a sound?

Only then did he realize he still held the plank. It slide from his fingers and clattered loudly to the ground.

"I knew I'd find you," the man chuckled. "You were working so hard you didn't even hear me coming up." His fatigues, pouches and holster clearly marked him as a shinobi.

Naruto was in a panic. His eyes darted from side to side. Maybe he should run, but then the ninja could catch him—

"You shouldn't be out here this late. Just be glad it's me on guard detail tonight and not one of the others," he said, stepping to the hole and kicking in little clods of dirt.

"Come on. Fill in the hole, and I'll take you home," he continued. "Do you live around here? I'll probably need to tell your parents—"

"Oh, no! Please don't!" Naruto said with a gulp. He stepped away from the wall towards the man. "I mean, uh, I…" _Think, think, think._ "If they find out at the orphanage, I'll get into so much trouble! They'll, they'll lock me up…and starve me…and beat me…and…."

It was a lie, of course. A ridiculous lie. They wouldn't care what he did and would probably be happy for him to leave. But Naruto was terrified that they might do something to keep him away from the wall. He knew now he wanted to leave. And if they found out what he was doing, maybe they'd lock him up for good.

He looked up at the man with big pleading eyes. The shadow robbed all color from his appearance, making both his eyes and hair look brown. But Naruto was surprised to discover that he knew the man that was smiling down at him.

It was the shinobi who came up behind the mean ninja. In the dim light Naruto couldn't make out much. But where the bandage had been was now a broad scar, cutting across his cheeks and nose. Naruto stared at it. It must have hurt him at the time. But it couldn't hurt anymore by the way he was grinning.

"Okay, okay" the shinobi said with a hearty laugh. "Life in there can't be easy. But stay away from the wall." He put a palm against it. "When you touch it, the chakra disturbance registers with the night guard."

Naruto frowned. "H-How? I've leaned against it tons of times and nobody's ever come here before!"

Still smiling, the ninja rolled his eyes good-naturedly, as if he knew exactly what the kid was doing

"_Sitting_ is fine. It's breaking in or out that's the problem." He put a hand on his shoulder, intent on steering him away. "Now go home."

Naruto dug in his heels. "Um…what's chakra?"

"Don't they teach you anything in there? Alright, look little guy, everyone has a different chakra signature. Me, you, everyone."

He squatted and drew a long line in the dirt with a figure sitting beneath it. Naruto squatted as well.

"When we sit and act normal we use a very low level of chakra. So we have a low chakra signature." He continued drawing while he spoke, adding a little stick man bent forward, shovel in hand, to the picture.

"But if you are fighting, like me, or digging — like you…." He tapped the picture and grinned knowingly. Naruto looked sheepish. "Well, then you give off a high chakra signature. That's how I knew you were here."

Naruto scrunched up his face and rubbed the back of his head. "But then how did you know I was—"

"Trying to break out? Because of Konoha's impervious chakra defense. There is a chakra barrier underneath the wall," he said, sweeping his hand in a low arc.

"Oh…um...really?"

"Uh-huh. And above." He continued the arc up high. Naruto followed his hand, looking up to the top of the impossibly high wall. His stomach sank.

His disappointment must have shown, because the shinobi chuckled at his upturned face.

"Go home," he said kindly. He reached out and ruffled the boy's hair. "I won't turn you in this time, but don't try it again."

Naruto's head rocked under the gentle hand, but he was only distantly aware of the kindness. The words may as well have been a death blow for Naruto. If what he'd said was true, then there was no hope for him.

Naruto stood then slowly headed back to the orphanage. The shinobi watched him for a moment then, certain he was really going back, turned in the opposite direction and left, gravel crunching under his feet.

Across the road, a figure melted back into the shadows.

In a heartbroken daze, Naruto hopped back over the fence, slipped back into the building and curled himself up at the top of his bed. Tears burned at the corners of his eyes. A building with walls, in a city with walls — he felt like he'd been locked away already. He cried himself to sleep.

After that, Naruto didn't leave the orphanage yard again. There was no point. He no longer sat on the swing, he didn't want to be reminded of the golden light or the wall. They were both lost to him. Sprawled on top of a picnic table, staring up at the leaves in the dark tree, he just laid there and waited. Sooner or later they were going to come and haul him off.

Hope had abandoned him. And having lived with it, just for a little while, made it so much worse.

No one in the orphanage wanted him. If he left, no one would care. But his one wish — to escape, to leave — just burst like a bubble on his fingertips. He closed his small hand into a fist.

Even the terrible ache in his gut had left him. Naruto rubbed his stomach, wondering if that was even real or just a byproduct of his nightmare. But he remembered how angry he was at the teacher. _That_ was real. He wasn't dreaming then.

Naruto tried to make himself so angry he'd feel that strange crackling feeling again. He rolled on his side and stared at the orphanage, remembering every injustice he'd ever felt there. He squinted his eyes until he saw spots, but it never turned to the bleeding red edges. He flopped onto his back with a sigh.

Each night was the same. No one ever bothered him, no one ever came out from the orphanage.

A few times, he felt like someone was watching him. Which was strange, because no one ever looked at him. Ever. But when he scanned the building for the silhouette of an adult or child, he saw none. Naruto just shrugged and flopped back on the table.

But one night, the feeling was particularly strong. He couldn't ignore it. Propped up on an elbow, Naruto looked back at the building. It was quite late, so most of the lights were already out. Nothing stirred at all. He eased back down to the table.

He had just gotten comfortable again when heard a soft crush of shoes on gravel. It sounded like someone was walking up the alleyway. Naruto sat up and squinted into the darkness, but again there was nothing.

He watched for a few moments longer, until he was satisfied he was hearing things. He was about to lay back down when the soft thudding resumed. Naruto looked hard at the alley, determined to find the source of the noise.

This time, someone did come out of the darkness. And the patterned gait was unmistakeable. Naruto's stomach flipped.

Another shinobi? That couldn't be good. He scrambled around, swung his feet off the table and looked for the quickest, straightest way back to the building. He hoped to scoot away before the man noticed him.

But Naruto glanced back at the alley only to find, to his horror, that the shinobi was much closer than he ever expected. The lean man had cleared the fence without a sound and now was calmly, silently walking straight toward him.

Naruto was in an absolute panic. He wildly thought that maybe the ninja was just taking a shortcut. _Yeah. That was it._

He jammed his trembling hands under his legs and sat as still as he could, hoping, praying, the man wouldn't notice him. Looking away from the approaching man, Naruto stared hard at a stray leaf on the ground.

A long shadow stretched out in front of him, drawing closer until it engulfed the leaf. Naruto gulped, but didn't move. Strangely, the shadow stopped moving as well.

Everything was frozen for a long moment. It was so silent that Naruto thought maybe, _maybe_ it could still work. Once the guy saw that he was just a kid, then he would keep on going. This was just a waste of his time, and he'd keep right on—

"Are you Uzumaki Naruto?"

Oh no.

Naruto cleared his throat. "Uh…yeah?" His gaze flickered between the leaf and the man's black shoes.

"They leave you out here alone?"

Naruto frowned then looked away. "They don't want me in there," he said quietly.

Suddenly Naruto slanted him another glance. "What do you want?" This time his eyes made it to the knees of his black fatigues.

The shinobi paused for a moment. "And was it you who tried to break out of the wall near here a few weeks ago?"

Naruto turned back to the leaf. "Umm…no…."

A smile ghosted across the man's face. "Why would you want to leave here?"

"I hate it here," Naruto grumbled. "No one cares about me. No one speaks to me or looks at me." His gaze snagged on the glint of a kunai tucked into his belt. "What do you care?

The shinobi opened his hands in front waist, spreading out long elegant fingers. "Did you do anything wrong?"

"No!" Naruto eye's darted to his face in indignation. The shinobi looked mildly amused. He cocked an eyebrow and tipped his head, causing his sleek black ponytail to slip around his neck.

Naruto looked down. "No, I didn't do anything wrong," he repeated softly to himself. He pulled his hands out from under his legs and plunked them into his lap.

"May I sit down?"

Naruto shrugged but didn't move. The man quietly sat down beside him on the table. It wasn't close, but it wasn't so far that Naruto couldn't shift his eyes to study the white wrap around one thigh.

The shinobi was silent for a moment before sitting forward, dropping his elbows to his knees and steepling his fingers comfortably in front of him. Naruto dragged his gaze back to the leaf, unable to bear the silence.

"So did someone send you to take me to away? Take me to jail?"

"Is that what you think is going to happen to you?"

"That's what the other ninja told me. That I'd never be a ninja. I should be locked up. Like in jail or something."

"Because of something you didn't do?" There was a sympathetic note to the man's smooth voice.

Naruto sniffed. "Yeah."

"That doesn't sound very fair to me."

Naruto sniffed again and shook his head.

The shinobi seemed to rethink something. He dropped his steepled fingers, propped his hands back on the table and leaned back.

"So…you want to be a ninja?"

"Yeah," Naruto said quietly, never looking up. "I did."

"But not any more?"

"No. I can't." He frowned deeply. "What do you care? Just leave me alone."

The ninja was unfazed. "Why can't you? You seem fit and smart. You are quite aware of your surroundings, and you have a great desire to become a shinobi. There is nothing to stop you."

"I'm not allowed. They won't let me." Naruto pulled his knees up and hugged them to his chest.

"Because you have the kyuubi sealed inside you?" the man said quietly. He watched the boy closely.

"Huh?" Naruto sniffled.

"Because they think there's a monster inside you?"

Naruto closed his eyes and put his head back down. "Go away," he said through his knees.

"Well, I happen to think the only monsters are the ones who locked you away in here." The shinobi sat forward and turned to the boy. "What if I told you that you were special, you had an amazing power inside that the people here didn't want you to know about?"

Blue eyes peeked over kneecaps. "W-What?"

"A power that only you have and only you can control? Something so strong it could wipe away this whole building, probably this whole village if you wanted to?"

Naruto shook his head, his eyes wide. Was this guy crazy? But he looked into his black eyes, studied his pale face and decided that this guy at least believed in what he was saying. So Naruto didn't turn away.

"And what if I told you that the people here keep you locked away so they can have your special powers all to themselves. So that they can use it when they want to, like a weapon, like a knife, and then lock you up again when they don't need it."

Naruto frowned at him. He didn't like the sound of that.

The shinobi smiled. "Do you feel special? Do you feel different?"

Naruto shrugged suspiciously.

"Because I have special powers too." He tapped his cheek just under his eye. "My eyes. And this village wants to use me to hurt people, kill people. Do things I don't want to do. So I've got to escape before they lock me up too."

Naruto's round face went slack. The man's smile widened a bit.

He made a big show of looking around, checking that they were alone, then tilted his head closer to whisper something important.

"I am planning on leaving, but I wanted to know, since you were trying to escape this village as well…." Black eyes watched him closely. "Would like to—"

Naruto scrunched up his face suddenly. "Hey mister, _who_ are you? What's your name?

"I am Uchiha Itachi, Naruto-san," he said patiently. "So what do you say? Do you want to stay here and be locked away by the village, a monster and a weapon to be used only for their bidding?" He waited till he saw an expression of horror flit across the boy's face. Then he leaned closer, his voice warm and full of hope. "Or do you want to come with me and become a shinobi, strong and powerful, in control of your own special power? Free to do whatever you choose?"

Naruto's eyes were wide and glassy. He nodded his head slowly. He thought it might be a dream. And he finally gasped out "Y-Yes!" just to hear his own voice.

"Good." Itachi sat back. "Then this is your first mission: Tell no one of our meeting, and be ready to leave the night of the full moon. Be at this spot at midnight. We'll leave then."

"Okay," Naruto said, still in a daze. "But that's just in a few days!"

Itachi nodded and stood.

"But wait, what about getting over the wall? Doesn't Konoha have an 'emperor's chakra defense?'"

"_Impervious_," he corrected. "I have already prepared for that, and I should thank you for it. It's how I knew you were here. Since you tried to break out a few weeks ago, the guards are now going over the wall to check for imperfections. There will be several slight chakra anomalies just after midnight, too many for the guards to handle all at once. It will give us enough time to slip through."

The corner of Itachi's mouth curved up into a smile. He turned to go.

"Wait," Naruto called out to him. "Should I bring anything…like my clothes? I don't have a lot, but I have a few shirts…."

"Let them keep your things," Itachi said over his shoulder, still smiling. "A shinobi like you will have no use for orphanage rags." Then he took a step and disappeared in a wisp of smoke.

Naruto's heart pounded in his ears. He didn't know how long he sat out there, replaying what had happened and pinching himself to make sure he wasn't dreaming. And when he finally left the courtyard, he didn't remember going through the quiet building or creeping past all the sleeping children. He just knew that he laid in the bed for most of the night staring at the ceiling. He was too excited to sleep.

* * *

**Author's Notes**

Another two part chapter again. Sorry, but I wanted to post something sooner rather than later, and this is a good break. And yes, this is all happening with Katsuro's dream. The flashbacks, the dreams-within-a-dream and the occasional change of pov. It's a flashback chapter wrapped in a dream, we all know it. I just gave up trying to make it be all misty and dreamlike. Next chapter will focus on Katsuro's life on the run with Itachi.

Gorgeous art by anonaruto! Check out her beautiful pictures of Naruto from a scene in Chapter 26. He's lovely and serious and looks just how I'd imagine him to be! She's at anonaruto at deviantart dot com.

Omitted scene alert! I took out a scene from this chapter because it was fully from Itachi's pov. But you can still read it at the website (click the homepage on my profile). There are also extended notes and a preview that didn't make it into this chapter. So check it out for more stuff!

Thanks so much to everyone's reviews! I can't tell you how much they mean to me! I wish I'd been able to reply to each one personally, but I just couldn't this chapter. So please know that I so appreciate each and every one of them. It's been a hectic fall, and in the middle of it I took a break for National Novel Writing Month in November. So I wrote 1600 words a day, everyday, to end the month with a 50,000+ word novel! And I made it! Yay! The down-side (or upside if you like to read) is that my only progress on the fanfic was to write little scenes here and there but never really finishing. This pushed my ff word-count higher, which is what led me to break it in two. I'm really trying to write more succinctly, and unfortunately with this chapter I did the opposite! :) Oh well, it just means there's more to read. Anyway, hope you enjoy!

**Chapter Notes**

Hope this chapter wasn't too hopeless. I wanted it to feel authentic, like you really wanted Naruto to leave. Not just that he half-heartedly did. But I intentionally kept the pain themes to a minimum: no abuse, just neglect, but which I think can be just as heartbreaking. Anyway, the tone picks up and I hope it ended on a good note. Next chapter he truly becomes Katsuro and learns much more about the kyuubi.

• "The Stolen Child" — references W.B. Yeats poem of the same name. It is a lovely, gripping poem about fairies who enchant a young boy to "come away" with them, promising all the delights that only a boy could want. The twist is the boy won't know until its far too late that he cannot return to the life he once knew. It is so beautiful and perfect to think of Itachi enticing young Naruto to "come away" with the promise of a life of adventure. Full poem and analysis at the website.

• "The Dragonfly Chaser — a haiku by Chiyo (and yes, I'd be willing to bet that's where Kishimoto drew his inspiration for his Chiyo), one of Japan's best known female haiku poets. It is written from the pov of the mother, wondering where her child has gotten off too. It reflects that heartbreaking moment where, in the stillness of a home after the loss of her son, the mother wonders, as she is so used to doing, where the little boy has gotten off to. In the very next instant, after the poem's end, she realizes he's gone. (Sort of like waking from a dream and not knowing for a fraction-of-a-second which is real - the dream life or the real life. ) So, in a single poem it ties together both instances, both realities: For that moment, he was still alive to her, and just off playing in another field. At the same time the lines affirm that yes, he is still chasing dragonflies, but it is another place where she cannot go. I thought this was appropriate for this chapter because this is the little window into Naruto's life before he leaves the village. He doesn't die, but he will never be that same child again. And the playful, sweet boy will never grow up in those fields, but will move on to run and play in other ones.

• So Naruto's backstory here is a variation on the manga — What if Naruto found out before he was in the academy that he was a demon-child? What if he found out when he was still innocent and seeking attention, before he had turned to pranking to get negative attention? What if he runs into Mizuki and learns that everyone else knows something he doesn't, maybe even all the way up to the Hokage? And what if the villains really were villainous, and went after Naruto when the village didn't care about him?

• So this chapter is a steady building of Naruto's neglected experiences until Itachi comes along. My hope is that when you read it you feel like Naruto does, that Itachi is offering him a better life than he ever has had in Konoha. It's not that Itachi forcibly persuades him, it's that he figures out the right thing to say. Which is his specialty anyway. Remember Itachi saying that catching Konoha's jinchurriki was one of the easiest things he'd ever done? This was what he was talking about. Just a simple promise. So it reinforces his mantra of finding out what a person wants and then you'll have them in the palm of their hands.

• _The dust puffed and swirled, and for a moment, everything was lost behind it's yellow haze. Only the steady thrum remained. Then, slowly, the cloud lifted._ — The opening starts with a pounding sound: it's Katsuro's heartbeat on the hillside; it's the memory and foreshadow of the kyuubi's heartbeat; and it's the steady pounding of the approaching shinobi footsteps, bearing the news that will change him forever. So all of that is mixed in with the sound that replays through this chapter.

• _The teachers often supplemented their normal rations with some little sweets. Yet no matter how hard he tried, Naruto never seemed to be able to push to the front in time. The bag of candy was forever running out. And hopeful child that he was, he never once thought it was intentional._ — This is why it was important for Sakura to give him candy. And then to keep bringing it just for him. It's another little thing that helps weave them together.

• _And in that moment of blinking uncertainty, when his face stung and his eyes burned and he didn't know whether he was standing or falling…something crackled to life within him. _— So the rest that follows is about the kyuubi. And I really tried to write the experiences and Naruto's reactions as frightening. And submerging. Like hearing a heartbeat pound in your ears and wondering if it's yours, or a demon's, or both. So in my story, the idea of the kyuubi is frightening to Naruto. In the manga he just sort of accepts it. And it's responding here to its host being threatened. So it awakens the first time when Naruto gets slapped by a teacher. (One instance of abuse under the guise of corporal punishment.)

• Naruto's dream of the cell — so I changed this up too. What if Naruto stumbled upon the cell out of order than in the manga, going there instead when he had very little knowledge of the kyuubi? And to up the tension, little Naruto thinks he's been locked in with the demon. So again, the sensory overload of being around the demon, with darkness, and heat and water that feels like it's sucking you under. And of course, the steady pounding of the heartbeat that opened the chapter.

• _The scent of food wafted in the shifting air, and his stomach suddenly growled. Strangely, that made him feel more like himself again. One thing he did know, he was always hungry._ — he has more chakra, burns more energy and is therefore always hungry. It is something that makes up the human side of him. So feeling hungry and the thought of doing something that makes him feel full and better is a very reassuring thing to him at that moment. Helps remind him who he is.

• _In this way his days and weeks blurred together. The days of numbed silence would end with him balled at the top of his bed, just wishing that the world would sweep over him, forgetting he was there._ — This is the same as Sakura the last night in the temple. When she curled up into a ball under her blanket and Katsuro decided he didn't want to be the one to make her feel bad. This was what he was remembering.

• _At just the right angle, a ribbon of golden light clung to the edge of a building._ — golden ribbon, golden light. Little theme here. ;) Ribbon of road through the forest, the painting in the temple, the shimmery haze of the genjutsu and the golden barley fields. All these places hold a transformation for the main characters. So this marks the beginning of Naruto's transformation as well.

• _But this little blue-black world was all his. Naruto liked to imagine that he could tumble down between those inky walls and disappear into that golden light at the end._ — So the Katsuro from chapters previous pretty much resides in shadows. His whole life is shadowy. Sakura is the one part that isn't. So this is a little foreshadow of the life he's going to embark on. And it's something that he wants.

• _He wanted to see more. Just a little more. He wanted to claim more of that shimmering golden light for himself._ — This speaks specifically about the part of him that seeks out Sakura. He always wants more and can't let her go. He doesn't want to let her go. So the part of him that sets out, that leaves the orphanage and goes toward the light is also the part that's drawn to her.

• _Looking up, Naruto saw bats flitting up the great expanse, twisting and turning, then soaring over the top and disappearing._ — Naruto first watched spiders carried off on their silks from the 'quiet room.' Then he watches bats going over the wall. Both critters evoke the same feeling, just that it's a different wall. Naruto is still locked away, wishing to be free.

• _In the dim light Naruto couldn't make out much. But where the bandage had been was now a broad scar, cutting across his cheeks and nose._ — It's Iruka, of course.

• _"Go home," he said kindly. He reached out and ruffled the boy's hair. "I won't turn you in this time, but don't try it again."_ — Iruka ruffles Naruto's hair, just like Sakura ruffled the boy's hair on her mission. So it's a little mark of kindness.

• _Across the road, a figure melted back into the shadows._ — Itachi, of course. See the website for a this scene from his pov.

• _Sprawled on top of a picnic table, staring up at the leaves in the dark tree, he just laid there and waited. Sooner or later they were going to come and haul him off. _— The opposite of looking into Sakura's eyes which remind him of the canopy of a tree with the light behind them. Small but intentional.

• _The lean man had cleared the fence without a sound and now was calmly, silently walking straight toward him._ — Mizuki's approach is silent. Iruka's approach is silent. And finally, Itachi's approach is silent. So these are all the hallmark of the ninja which he will aspire to be. And Sakura says that Katsuro is stealthy, so it's a little bit of a before-and-after.

• _He jammed his trembling hands under his legs and sat as still as he could, hoping, praying, the man wouldn't notice him._ — Parallels Sakura's reaction when she first saw Itachi.

• _Looking away from the approaching man, Naruto stared hard at a stray leaf on the ground. A long shadow stretched out in front of him, drawing closer until it engulfed the leaf._ — Yeah, the stray leaf is Naruto.

• _The shinobi was silent for a moment before sitting forward, dropping his elbows to his knees and steepling his fingers comfortably in front of him. Naruto dragged his gaze back to the leaf, unable to bear the silence._ — Itachi has been moving his fingers, planning a genjutsu. The steepling of fingers is his tell, but really any finger movement will do so that's why he was waving his hand around a little bit. But Naruto kept looking away! :) Also, Katsuro told Sakura never to look at his hands. That's why.

• _The shinobi seemed to rethink something. He dropped his steepled fingers, propped his hands back on the table and leaned back. "So…you want to be a ninja?"_ — Itachi decides not to use the genjutsu when he realizes he can persuade Naruto to leave Konoha with a simple promise to make him a shinobi. Later Itachi mentions that catching the jinchurikki is one of the easiest things he's ever done. This is why.

• _"Let them keep your things," Itachi said over his shoulder, still smiling. "A shinobi like you will have no use for orphanage rags." Then he took a step and disappeared in a wisp of smoke._ — For your listening enjoyment: Peter Gabriel's "Solsbury Hil." :) It's very much in the same vein of 'get-up-and-go' that I was trying to capture here.


	29. The Stolen Child, Part 2

**Chapter 29 - The Stolen Child, Part 2**

The days and weeks before the full moon were some of the longest in the eight-year-old's life. But eventually they all trickled away. The night of the full moon Naruto sat in the shadow of the tree, scanning the courtyard for any sign. His stomach still ached, but this time it was from excitement.

The yard was bright blue with moonlight. No one ever came out for him, and save for a single black bird that alighted in the tree for a moment, he never saw another living thing. He sat for hours in the darkness. Plenty long enough for doubt to creep in.

What if this ninja lied? What if he didn't come? What if he forgot about him too, just like all the rest?

His nervousness took a sharp edge. And the longer he sat, hoping and worrying, the worse it got. After what felt like hours more, trapped in the hell of not knowing, a thin breeze ruffled his bangs.

Naruto cocked his head, thinking he'd heard a rustle of movement, but it was just the wind moving through the leaves above him.

Dejected, he plunked his elbows on his knees and dropped his chin down into his hands. Maybe it was all just a big, horrible joke—

The wind pushed down through the tree again, kicking up a swirl of leaves. Then suddenly, right in front of his eyes, a dark shape materialized in the spaces between leaves, growing more solid with each step. Naruto blinked rapidly, sure he was seeing things. But the dark outlines of leaves continued to fold and melt into the figure until there were no leaves left. Only a black-clad man walked soundlessly across the courtyard. The pale moonlight shone at his back and cast his front in shadow. And not a breath of air rippled around him.

Frozen in panic, Naruto gripped the edge of the table so hard his knuckles went white. _A man…appeared out of thin air and…and...was coming straight towards him!_ He was about to tear himself from the table and dash back to the orphanage when the terrifying apparition spoke.

"Naruto…. Are you ready to leave?" The voice was flat, but it was Itachi's.

Relief flooded the boy's features. "Yes," he gulped. "Yes."

"Good."

Itachi stopped right in front of of the table. Naruto couldn't help but notice that he looked distracted. And exhausted. Itachi glanced around at their surroundings for a moment, and Naruto secretly looked him up and down. Shadows pooled under his eyes, even in the dim light. Something clung to his clothes and skin, smudging like dirt. He looked like he'd been in a fight. His chest heaved a unnaturally from exertion. Itachi turned suddenly and a shaft of moonlight glinted off a slick wetness on his fatigues. It was splattered across him like—

Itachi cleared his throat. Caught, Naruto sheepishly raised his gaze back up to Itachi's pale face.

"Ready?" he snapped. Any pleasantries from their first meeting had been discarded.

A sudden fear trilled up Naruto's spine. Was this man any safer than all the rest? After all, he could be lying too—

"He-Hey, you still want to become a shinobi right?" Itachi said with forced lightness. "Because if you do, we have to leave now."

Still uncertain, Naruto didn't move. Itachi frowned in irritation. "If you stay, you _know_ what they will do to you…."

Naruto hugged his arms and shook his head. "No, I don't know…. Wh-what will they do to me?"

Suddenly, Itachi was right in front of him, leaning into his face. Naruto never saw him move, but he was just there, closing in on him.

"They will crack you open," he ground out, "pull out that demon and _throw you away_!"

Naruto forgot how to breath. He stared back at Itachi, wide-eyed with horror and finally managed to croak out "O-oh…."

It must have been enough. Itachi took a step back. His smooth tone returned. "So if you want to live, become a _great shinobi_, like I said, then we have to leave." He darted another look around. "Right now," he said sharply. "We are running out of time."

Naruto's face was still pale, but his mouth slowly slipped into a resolute line. The way Itachi put it, there wasn't really a choice. But it didn't matter. He wanted to be a shinobi. More than anything.

He took a deep breath. "Yeah…. Yeah...I wanna go." He scrambled to his feet. "What do I need to—"

Itachi's hand clamped around Naruto's small arm, and Naruto was jerked off the table and straight into the air. Itachi leapt from limb to limb, climbing to the top of the tree, then shot out into the air, arcing toward the roof of a neighboring building.

It was bad enough that Naruto's stomach dropped to his toes when the took off. But when Itachi let go for a fraction of a second to hook his arm around the boy's rib cage, Naruto thought he was going to crash back down to the empty courtyard below.

But once secured, they moved at a terrifying speeds.

Itachi took such fast, high leaps that the village was only a blur around Naruto. They bounced off one dark roof. Then another, and another. Wind whipped his face and roared in his ears, and he was beginning to feel queasy.

At one point, Naruto tried to touch down, desperate to feel something other than hurtling through the air, but Itachi jerked him back up.

"No. Don't touch the ground. They could trace your scent."

And they pushed off again. Naruto's stomach dropped from the force. He crushed his eyes shut and tried to keep from vomiting. As they pitched silently over the dark village, the boy's limbs rose and fell like a rag doll.

Naruto didn't know when they leapt the wall, but eventually the air around them changed. It felt full and moist. Cracking his eyes open he saw the enveloping arms of a tree. They touched down on a branch and leapt off again. The cool air washed over him.

Naruto looked back just in time to see the lights of the village dissolve behind the leaves. Around them now was nothing but sleeping forest.

He breathed deeply. They'd done it. They were free. He didn't close his eyes again.

They traveled at the same clip until well after the the blue glow of a new day lit the horizon. Itachi said nothing about their destination, and Naruto was simply happy to watch the unveiling landscape. It was wider and more beautiful than he could have ever imagined. He felt like his eyes weren't big enough to take it all in.

Naruto hoisted himself up on Itachi's arm to better watch the sun dawn, brilliant and new, over the soft crowns of trees. He relished the startled lilt of birdsong and the fresh leafy scent as Itachi's footfall shook the branches for a moment. The wind that threatened to tear him from Itachi's side as they fled the village now seemed to be his friend. It fluttered his clothes and tousled his hair as if it moved with them. Eyes shining, cheeks pink, Naruto couldn't remember ever being happier.

Sometime around midday Itachi's pace finally slowed. They descended down through the trees until they came upon a rocky outcrop. Itachi hopped carefully down the boulders to a dark, hidden opening. Naruto marveled at how Itachi had seen this spot from above the treetops until he caught sight of a pile of supplies.

"Oh," he said quietly. Of course. A shinobi would have planned ahead.

Once inside, Itachi finally let the boy's feet touch the ground again. Naruto's first steps were wobbly. He moved slowly, legs tingling as they regained their feeling.

Without a word, Itachi moved to a pack, pulled out a blanket and a scroll, and tossed an orange back to Naruto. Surprised, Naruto nearly missed catching it. Itachi jotted something in the scroll, rerolled it and flipped his fingers into a quick hand seal. The scroll disappeared in a puff of smoke. Absolutely shocked, Naruto dropped the orange on his foot.

But Itachi never looked up to see the boy's surprise. Instead he laid down, back to the cavernous room, and pulled the blanket over him. In moments he had fallen into what Naruto thought was a deep, soundless sleep.

Naruto watched the steady rise and fall of the blankets, wondering what he should do. He didn't feel tired, although he knew he probably should be. He wanted to see more, make sure it wasn't a dream. He was afraid if he fell asleep he'd wake up in the orphanage again. He didn't think he could handle that after this adventure.

Naruto scooped up the orange and turned toward the entrance of the cave. The thought of being in a brand new place sent his inquisitive mind into overdrive. Where were they? Were they still in the Fire country or were they really somewhere else? What kind of animals were here? He decided he'd peel his fruit and have a look around. Memorize everything. Curious and excited, Naruto started toward the opening.

"Don't leave," Itachi's voice commanded from the blankets, clear and firm. Startled, Naruto jerked to a stop. "It's not safe."

Itachi turned slowly under the covers to face him. Shadows pooled under his eyes, making him look years older.

"Don't go out of the cave. Don't even get near the opening. I have several jutsus placed around to conceal—" he cleared his throat, "to protect you from Konoha. If you break through them, there is no guarantee I can keep you safe."

Naruto nodded seriously. Satisfied, Itachi turned away again, moving slowly as if everything ached. In a moment, the blankets were rising and falling steadily.

Naruto looked longingly at the glow of the opening for a moment, then shrugged, pulled out another blanket and laid back to peel his orange. But halfway through the first segment, Naruto's eyes drooped shut. He nodded off, orange still clutched in his hand.

Everything after that was a blur of sleeping and eating. In the half-light of the cave, Naruto didn't know whether they'd been there hours or days.

Itachi was quiet but polite. Different from what Naruto expected a shinobi to be like. He thought they would be boisterous and grinning, larger-than-life, glad to share tales of the missions.

But Itachi was different. He was methodical and precise, like packing up his blanket when not in use or hiding the orange peels so as not to leave a trace. And he was courteous, always treating Naruto with quiet respect, asking his preferences and taking into account his needs.

The supplies didn't have much in the way of fresh food, but Itachi made sure he was well fed.

"You should be taller," he observed after one meal. "They didn't feed you well at the orphanage?"

Naruto shrugged. He always thought he got the same as everyone else, but maybe he didn't and just didn't know it. He did know that he was never allowed seconds. That memory still stung, when the cook called him greedy and sent back to the table with an empty bowl. She smiled and fawned over the other boys though, always giving them a little extra. But never to him.

Naruto looked away. He guessed there was so much he didn't see.

Itachi said nothing but heaped more food into his bowl. "Always make sure you eat enough." Naruto nodded gratefully and tucked into the second helping.

Time slipped by in this way, until Itachi began to look more like the shinobi who approached him in the orphanage yard, and less like a pale shadow of himself.

Their supplies were growing thin, and as Naruto ate one day he calculated they probably wouldn't have enough for another full meal.

But Itachi didn't seem concerned at all. He ate his meal and even gave Naruto an extra share, cutting more into the dwindling supplies.

Naruto decided if Itachi didn't worry, then neither would he. And he tucked into his dinner.

When he finished, he set his bowl aside and leaned back against the wall. His little belly pooched out, round and full. He was just thinking he might take another nap when Itachi stood swiftly.

"I'm feeling well enough now…. I think it's time."

Naruto peered up through over-long yellow bangs.

"T-Time for what?" His eyes brimmed with concern.

"We need to move soon. And you are too big of a target looking like the Yond— uh, looking like yourself. You need a disguise."

Itachi squatted down and looked over Naruto's features with a critical eye. It was unsettling.

"Your hair, your eyes…. Skin maybe," he said softly, almost to himself. His observation pinpointed on his cheeks, Naruto's secret shame. The boy looked at the ground. "Those lines definitely."

Naruto closed his eyes.

"You don't like them?"

Naruto shook his head miserably.

"Well, what if we got rid of them?"

Big blue eyes snapped open. "You mean…." Naruto gasped breathlessly. "They can come off?"

Itachi held Naruto's chin and thumbed over the lines, closely inspecting them. It was the same as the other shinobi, but there was a courtesy in Itachi's manners.

He shook his head slowly. Naruto's heart sank.

Itachi let go of his face. "They are marks from the Kyuubi. They cannot be removed."

"Oh."

Naruto cut his eyes away.

"Naruto…. Do you know what the Kyuubi is?"

Naruto shrugged half-heartedly, but finally shook his head.

"It is the monster that's locked inside you. It's a fox. And these lines," Itachi looked back to his cheeks for a moment, "are what mark you as his jinchurikki." Naruto gave him a blank look. "The Kyuubi's _container_."

Itachi chose his next words carefully.

"As you've already figured out, Konoha put the demon inside you to make you a powerful weapon when you grew up." Naruto's face was quickly loosing color. "You were to be used when they needed you and locked up when they didn't."

Naruto slid a hand over his belly, twisting his shirt, wishing he didn't remember the ache in his gut and the blurry feeling when he was angry. He wished that Itachi's words weren't true.

"From what I understand, the kyuubi is partitioned from your chakra, like in a cell? Maybe behind bars?" Naruto was stricken. Itachi took it as a confirmation. "And the seal would be at your navel. Do you ever feel anything there?"

Chin wobbling, Naruto looked at the ground. He nodded once. _So it was true. It was all true. _

"It was to be stored inside you, it's power available for you to use. But if you ever disobeyed them, they would tear it out and give it to someone else. And that would certainly kill you. Not that they cared…."

He glanced at Naruto, gauging just how deep his words had sunk. He needed to cement the boy's hatred, right from the start.

"This is what _Konoha_ does," Itachi ground out. "They throw away the ones who are no longer useful, and crush anyone who gets in their way. And if they have to seal a demon inside of a baby to do it, then they will. Without any thought to what you might have wanted to do with your life."

He paused and watched the boy. Big tears rolled down his cheeks. Itachi thought this was probably good enough. Now to open another door…

"I think what Konoha's done is wrong," Itachi rejoined bracingly. "I don't think you should be left to rot in an orphanage, while they keep the truth from you. Treating you like trash."

The boy sniffled. His mouth crumpled in an angry frown.

"I think you should be trained to use your powers, which are unlike anyone else's, and be free to do what you want with your life." Itachi watched him for a moment before adding, softly, "And I _know_ you've always wanted to be a shinobi…."

Naruto wiped his tears and nodded.

"Konoha did that to you," Itachi continued, pointing at Naruto's cheeks. "Then they threw you away."

Naruto looked up, blue eyes blazing with determination. The tracks of his tears were drying quickly.

"Your only worth to them is as a vessel. But I think you are worth more than that," Itachi said smoothly.

Naruto nodded firmly.

"So Uzumaki Naruto, your shinobi training starts now. After last night, Konoha is probably already in pursuit… tracking both of us." A strange expression flickered across Itachi's face then quickly vanished. "And we need to keep moving. But your looks are rather…distinctive."

Embarrassed, Naruto rubbed a hand over the back of his neck.

"You'll need a disguise."

"Really? Like different clothes or—"

"No, something permanent." Itachi frowned at his cheeks. "Especially for those lines."

Naruto beamed with excitement.

"The extent of what I can do depends on your chakra levels, but I'm hoping that since the Kyuubi's chakra is infused with your own, it will be high enough to sustain a transformation jutsu…."

Itachi took Naruto's hand, wrapping his long, pale fingers around the boy's wrist.

Naruto watched with fascination. There was a warm, tugging sensation beneath his grasp. The feeling got stronger.

"Uh, what are you—"

"Are you always this warm?"

"Um…yeah?"

Itachi frowned, then moved his fingers, grasping a little higher up on his forearm. He frowned again.

"Let me see your other arm." He tried a few different places, but the result was the same.

Naruto was becoming concerned, but Itachi suddenly released him with a great exhale of breath. "Well that makes everything easier."

"W-What does?"

Itachi rose suddenly to retrieve a scroll from his bag. He clutched it tightly until the middle glowed and a seal appeared. Satisfied, he strode back to the center of the room.

"Applying your transformation justu. You have an astonishing reserve of chakra. More than I ever expected," he said, shaking his head at the discovery.

Flicking back the seal, Itachi unfurled the scroll between them and squatted down to study it, brows furrowed. Naruto excitedly scanned the document as well, eyes traveling up and down the rows. It was jam-packed with writing and symbols, but more interesting, it was an official shinobi scroll. He couldn't get enough of it.

Naruto was just leaning out, tipping his head upside down, when Itachi's voice broke the silence.

"If you have to go to the bathroom, do it now," he said without looking up. Naruto shook his head anyway. "This is going to take a while. But when you wake up, you should be perfectly disguised."

Itachi scrawled out lines on the floor, radiating from a single point, and encircled it with one unbroken line. Then he plopped Naruto in the middle. Gingerly stepping out, he turned to face the boy and began a complex set of hand signs.

Naruto gaped like a fish at the sheer speed of Itachi's hands. It was just a blur of fingers and palms.

When Itachi stopped and moved to another spot on the circle, Naruto closed his mouth and glanced down over his appearance.

_Nope, no change yet. _

Itachi brought up his hands, and Naruto wiggled with excitement. He was determined to stay awake and witness the magical transformation. And he was really going to focus on those hands this time…see just how fast they were going…and maybe he'd give it a try, once he…once he….

Naruto passed clean out halfway through the second set of hand-signs.

Itachi snorted and left him sprawled in the center of the circle while he finished applying the jutsu.

Between handseals he swiped his sleeve over his forehead. The jutsu was an exhausting one. The boy would certainly be asleep for hours. And when he woke up, he was sure to be starving. They'd have to move out immediately. He hoped nothing went wrong.

Sure enough, hours later the boy sat up with a clutching his stomach and head. But even from across the room, Itachi could see that the jutsu worked.

"I'm soooo hungryyy…." Naruto said groggily. He rubbed the ache at his temple, distantly aware that his hair felt more coarse than usual. And why was he sleeping in the middle of the floor?

Standing up took a near monumental effort: Muscles he didn't even know he had ached and burned. But fully righted, feet planted firmly on the floor, he felt the pains just melt away under a soothing, almost numbing, warmth. He tightened his fists, testing out the muscles in his forearms. _No, they felt alright. The pain was gone. Strange…._

Itachi laid on the ground and watched Naruto's slow progress, but he did not move. He was curious to see if the kyuubi would heal its vessel. A transformation jutsu of that magnitude would put most grown men down for a week or more. But here was Naruto, getting up on his own from the middle of a blackened jutsu circle, stretching as if he'd just finished training spar.

Itachi hooded his eyes. It was breathtaking to think of how much power was contained in that single boy….

Naruto's stomach growled loudly. He clamped a hand over his gut and looked around, eyes finally alighting on Itachi.

"I'm starving," he grimaced. "Is there anything left to eat?"

"No," Itachi said, getting up slowly. Even administering the jutsu took a toll, but he'd be feeling better soon enough. "Come on, let's go outside."

Naruto shrugged and followed Itachi through the hazy blue light at the entrance. Stepping out into the sunshine, he was so glad to feel the sun on his skin, breathe in the fresh air. He felt good. Energized. He lifted a hand to shield the light and was surprised to see Itachi scanning his face intently.

"It's good…. Great, actually. You look like a completely different kid. Now all you need is a new name."

Naruto patted his face, then pulled down a lock of his hair, realization dawning now as to why it felt so strange. Yep, it was thicker, coarser and…and…brown?

"The lines are completely gone, too."

"Really!"

"See for yourself." Itachi pointed to a thin spring trickling beside the rocky outcrop.

Naruto bounded to it and knelt down. He bobbed his head over the the little puddles, excitedly trying to see all of his face at once.

Brown freckles dusted his nose and cheeks. It was as if the marks on his cheeks had just been shifted and scattered. He wiped at the new freckles but they wouldn't come off.

His yellow hair and blue eyes were gone, replace by muddy brown. But he didn't care. He stared at the reflection as if he'd never seen himself. A slow smile crept up his face.

He looked like an average kid. He looked like anyone else. He didn't look like the demon child. And he never would again.

Naruto turned back, ready to burst with joy. But Itachi had already moved on to his next task.

He hitched up a rucksack at his shoulder. "We need to move," he said soberly. "And we need to get supplies."

With that, they set off. While they traveled, Itachi outlined some things Naruto could expect to see and how he should behave to keep his identity concealed. And Naruto did his best to listen while taking in the gorgeous, bewildering scenery around him. It was just a forest, but to the boy who had grown up with nothing but the walls of un unkind orphanage, it looked like a paradise. He had a hard time concentrating.

Itachi held up a hand and Naruto stopped suddenly. They were on the outskirts of a small village. Itachi pointed them toward the back of a small store, then quickly relayed the plan. He was going to slip in and pilfer food from the back. Naruto was to creep up beside the building, hide near the storefront and be ready to tip over a crate or make some other loud noise if the shop owner walked toward the back.

Naruto looked down the long, dark side of the building. Little worry lines creased his forehead.

"Is something wrong?" Itachi said it as courteously as if he'd just handed him the wrong dinner.

"N-No, nothing's wrong. It's just that…that…. Is _this_ wrong?" Naruto looked up, face tight with concern. Itachi tipped his head for him to continue. "I mean, he's not an enemy…is he? He's just a guy selling food. We shouldn't just take it…. I mean, shinobis shouldn't do that, right? They only fight the bad guys. Like on missions and stuff…." His voice thinned out.

Naruto looked back at the building. He realized he didn't know what shinobis did at all. Itachi was only the second one he'd met. Maybe he'd gotten it all wrong—

"Naruto," Itachi said patiently. "Shinobis do whatever it takes to complete their mission. My mission is to keep you safe from Konoha. And to do that, we need to eat."

Naruto frowned a little less. He understood, but still wasn't convinced. Itachi beckoned him to walk a few paces more, then pointed to the open back door of the building. From there, Naruto could see the full crates of produce that sat ready to be moved to the front. They looked like they'd just arrived.

"Now see all that stock?" Naruto nodded. "Well, all of the rest of the stores are smaller, emptier. But this one, it's full. And he makes enough money to keep it full. If we take something from him, he'll never know. But if we got our supplies from that one," Itachi pointed to a rickety stand up the lane with a thin offering of produce, "that man would know immediately."

"Ah," Naruto said, understanding dawning on him. However, there was still a hitch. "But it's still stea—"

"No, we're on a mission, remember. And on a mission, a shinobi must get supplies from wherever he can, whenever he can. It's the choice we have to make to keep you safe."

Naruto sighed a little bit. He was resigned to it, but not convinced. Itachi narrowed his eyes.

"Don't forget, Konoha is already on our trail. We need to eat and we need to move. Taking a sack of supplies from someone who will never know is not stealing. It's survival. And it doesn't matter how you do it, you just have to survive." Itachi's tone slipped from patient to deadly serious. "And the longer we stand here talking, the smaller your chances of survival are getting."

Naruto gulped once. "Right. I'll just, uh, just head up there to the front of the store. Like you said."

Itachi nodded and left for the back of the store, never making a sound as he walked. Naruto watched him for a moment, then crept up the long side of the building to a cart angled at the edge of the storefront. He quietly crouched down under it, tucking himself into the shadow of a wheel.

He watched feet come and go, listened to the chatter. He needed to figure out who was the storekeeper. Inching closer, he peered up through the wheel, trying to see clothes, faces, anything that would give a clue. But from his spot he could only see up to their chest. No higher.

The big man in the front of the store looked like he could be the owner, but Naruto wasn't sure….

"Oi! Good morning! And what can I offer your little man today!"

_Bingo. The shopkeeper._ Naruto blew out a low breath in relief.

There was some mumbled conversation, then another man stepped into his view, carrying an infant. Naruto could see round arms and legs, and a patch of black hair.

The shopkeeper stepped closer, admiring the baby and asking questions. Naruto only caught fragments of it.

"No, not what his ma wants, but I prefer Katsuro," the father said, jostling the plump little legs.

The storekeeper made some approving sound. "That's a good, strong name—"

The father hoisted the baby just out of Naruto's sightline. "Because you'll be my 'victorious son' won't you?" he cooed. "Won't you?" The baby let out a hungry bawl.

"Oh-ho! A hungry boy! Well, I've got just the thing…." The shopkeeper threw back an arm to his store.

Just then, a pebble bounced of Naruto's shoe. Turning quickly, he saw Itachi motioning from the end of the long building. He had a full sack in his hand.

Naruto scrambled out of his hiding spot and dashed down the dirt path beside the building. Itachi frowned at his echoing footsteps.

"We'll have to work on that. Come on, let's go."

From there they traveled swiftly, never staying two nights in the same place. They moved through dry days and wet, sometimes eating, sometimes not. When they were close enough to a town, they tried to gather as many supplies as they could carry.

The plan, carried out successfully at the first store, became routine. Naruto went to the front while Itachi gathered what they needed. And he no longer felt a twinge of guilt about it. They needed supplies, these men had more than enough. Naruto was doing what he had to do to survive. That was all that mattered.

And through their travels in those first weeks, in those silent stretches when Itachi's black heels would blur in front of him, endlessly pounding over the anonymous terrain, Naruto thought about that baby.

He wondered if the father had his way. Or if the baby went by another name now. Naruto realized it was the only other name he could remember, outside of his own and Itachi's. He thought bitterly that he never knew anyone's name at the orphanage.

He had been repeating the name in his head for a few days when Itachi asked him again about the final detail of his disguise while they sat at the campfire.

"My name?" Naruto cleared his throat and set his bowl down beside him. "I, uh, have been thinking…thinking about the name…_Katsuro_."

"Ah," Itachi said quietly, peering at him over the orange flames. Naruto couldn't tell if he approved or not…. "Well, I think it suits you," he said decidedly. "You will be Konoha's 'victorious son,' after all. Just not how they expected." Itachi smirked to himself and continued eating his meal.

Naruto looked down, immeasurably pleased.

"Katsuro…. Katsuro…." he repeated softly, digging his toes into the black dirt beside the fire circle. He enjoyed the sound in his ears, the warmth of the fire, and the feeling that in the darkness, he had done it. He'd thrown off the last shackle from Konoha. He was finally free.

* * *

On the dark hillside above the cherry blossom festival, Katsuro shifted in his sleep. He heaved a ragged sigh and turned on his side, pulling the cloak tighter around him. His dreams had consumed him. And even the noisy clatter of leaves as he kicked out his legs couldn't break their grip.

But the sound didn't go unnoticed. In the treetops, a thin shadow pivoted, changed course and streaked back over the branches. It grew closer and closer to the sleeping boy.

* * *

In the long months after they'd left Konoha, after the newness of constant travel had worn off, Katsuro thought they would settle into another village, another life. But it didn't happen.

They kept moving. Sometimes in a straight line, from town to town; sometimes veering erratically off into the wilderness.

Katsuro thought it was all calculated to keep Konoha at bay, even though Itachi said they escaped flawlessly. He also let it slip that no one in the village even noticed the boy was gone.

For Katsuro, that was another bitter mark against his former home.

"Oh they'll realize what they've lost," Itachi said. "Sooner or later. And they'll be coming for you." But he didn't seem too concerned.

It wasn't until they rendezvoused with a strange man in a dark, lonely forest about a year after their escape that Katsuro got an inkling of a larger plan.

They had just stopped to rest when suddenly Itachi stood and looked around. A twig snapped. He told Naruto to stay put, then went off in the direction of the sound.

And Katsuro did stay put. He sat for a long time, until he thought he heard voices. He listened harder. It was Itachi's voice. Puzzled, Katsuro immediately made his way toward the sound. He walked as slowly and quietly as he imagined Itachi did, but to little effect. His feet still crunched down on the forest floor.

Peering around a large trunk, he saw Itachi talking with a strange man. He was dressed in black with an orange mask. Itachi's shoulders bounced in a soundless laugh, and suddenly the masked face with it's single hole turned right toward Katsuro's hiding spot. A single eye peered at him.

Katsuro felt a chill, unlike any he'd ever felt before. Something deep down, in his core, told him to stay away from that man. Even half-shielded by the tree, he still felt vulnerable. He spread his fingers out wide on the bark for a ridiculous reassurance that he wasn't being magnetically drawn to him.

Itachi turned back then, business apparently concluded. He blocked out Katsuro's view of the masked man. Striding straight for Katsuro he never looked back, never looked over his shoulder. So he never saw what Katsuro did: the air, the woods, the very surface of the Earth twisting and turning in on itself. Great distorted arms leapt out behind Itachi, as if they would pull him in as well.

Panicked, Katsuro stepped out from behind the tree to yell at him to run. But strangely, Itachi didn't seem to notice the disruption. He just walked toward the boy, unconcerned.

Katsuro frantically looked between the two, unable to process how a great vacuum could open in the world and not pull them both in…when suddenly it vanished. The man, the distorted black hole — all of it. His mouth was dry and his heart was pounding, but that was the only sign of a disturbance.

Itachi stopped in front of him.

"Problem," he asked, mouth curving into an almost-smile.

Katsuro shut his gaping mouth, but his eyes still shined with confused fear.

"Come on, we have a mission," Itachi said, flashing a small scroll in his hand.

Katsuro barely acknowledged him. He just kept staring at the space. Birds chirped, even a little sun filtered down. And strangely, he was feeling warmer too. Whatever was there, whoever that was, he was gone now. Katsuro knew it. He didn't know how he knew it, but he just did.

Itachi stopped a few paces away. "Coming?"

Katsuro inhaled sharply. "Yeah."

After that, Katsuro noticed their travel was a lot less aimless and a lot more intentional. Itachi was very aware of their surroundings, all the time. He watched and listened, strategically planning out their supply needs and travel distances. Everything was coordinated to some greater plan.

But maybe it always had been, even from the beginning. And Katsuro just didn't see it.

But once he realized they were on a mission — a real, live, shinobi mission — his excitement was hard to keep down. He couldn't wait to begin his training, and he peppered Itachi with questions about every aspect of ninja life.

Itachi was a quiet man, with patience enough to see things through to their bitter end, even years down the road. It was what made him the best shinobi of his generation. His dedication to his goal. But for all his skills, he was unaccustomed to having a kid in tow on his mission, infringing on his peace. Itachi realized he needed that time to plan for every outcome. But Katsuro's enthusiasm for shinobi life, for missions and training, seemed to be bottomless.

So to keep the boy placated, he gave him little missions while they were encamped. Clean the weapons, fetch the water, run a few laps. If Itachi hoped the menial tasks would bore him, then he was sorely mistaken.

Katsuro finished them quickly, then was ready for more. He was cheerful and happy when he had things to do, and Itachi found that reciting a few platitudes of instruction from his academy days kept the boy walking on air. He took everything to heart.

And when the weapons couldn't possibly be any cleaner, the boy hounded him tirelessly to let him throw one of the stars or cut a branch with a kunai.

Finally, Itachi relented. Katsuro was beyond thrilled.

The boy set right to making a mess of branches for the wood pile, throwing weapon after weapon until he had shredded most of the small limbs. Katsuro earned quite a few nicks himself. The weapons were exceedingly sharp, after all.

Itachi took one look at the mess and the grinning boy…then laid a leaf on the soft sand of the stream bank and told him to hit that, _just that_, and nothing else.

Katsuro applied himself to the task with renewed vigor, throwing until even Itachi could barely see the mark in the dim firelight. Finally Katsuro trudged back to the circle, exhausted. Itachi thought for sure this was the end. The kid had worn himself out.

But when he walked into the glow of the fire, Katsuro's grin was unmistakeable. His big eyes glittered. He pulled out from behind his back a kunai: A single leaf was skewered on the blade.

A ghost of a smile crossed Itachi's lips. He couldn't believe the kid had done it.

Katsuro flopped beside the fire and, never letting go of the kunai, dropped immediately into a deep sleep. In a few moments he was snoring softly.

Itachi stretched back. This kid was different…. Most men would have given up. And though he had little natural talent, that precociousness that he was so familiar with in the Uchiha clan, this boy had persistence. And for a shinobi, the ability to persevere could not be underestimated.

Itachi toed a stray branch into the fire and watched it flame up. He wondered if Katsuro's interest in all things shinobi would eventually burn itself out too.

He had his answer a few weeks later, when they encountered some local ruffians in a hard-scrabble town. Itachi came back around an alley, hand raised to give Katsuro the sign that he'd gotten his supplies and they were clear to leave, he found the kid at the receiving end of a left hook.

Katsuro scrambled back up, swinging at anything he could, but never quite connecting with the bigger boy. Ringed around them were several other rough kids, ready to take the big one's place if they got the chance.

Katsuro had no hope of winning this fight. At least, not like that. But it looked like that thought was the furthest from the boy's mind just then. He took another swing, grazing his opponents coat, then turned and clumsily swung again, gnashing his teeth as if he'd bite whatever he didn't hit.

Itachi walked up the alley noiselessly. It wasn't until he was right upon them that one of the kids noticed the interloper.

Awareness rippled around the group. The big one, just then hoisting Katsuro up by the collar, immediately dropped him.

Out of the corner of his eye Katsuro saw Itachi, but _he_ wasn't going to stop. He still had plenty of fight left in him. He pushed the kid's thick chest, then punched at his gut. But the kid ignored him, only making a slight "oof" sound as Katsuro fist sank into his soft stomach.

"Come on! Fight me! I told you I could take you!" Katsuro pulled back his fist again, ready to go for the kid's face, when he noticed his eyes. They were wide and weirdly fixed on Itachi.

Katsuro spun around. The kids were all frozen, staring in that same glazed way at Itachi. Katsuro turned back slowly.

Itachi stood casually in the middle of the alley, just steps from the group. He looked the same as he always did, but somehow his focus seemed to be sharper. His eyes were moving, swirling…turning red.

Then suddenly, everything went cold. Naruto felt a light breeze on his skin. But a deeper chill had taken hold. As if being frozen from the inside out. Somehow, he knew this, remembered it, deep in his bones. Maybe deeper still. This bitter cold creeping in, smothering and freezing him, making him forget—

There was a flicker of movement from Itachi. The kids collapsed to the ground. The cold sensation snuffed out.

Katsuro breathed in the warm, stale air of the alley, remembering suddenly where is was. But he hadn't left…strange…. And, _what happened_ to those kids?

"Let's go," Itachi grunted and headed back down the alley, stepping over a sprawled leg of one of the kids. Katsuro was still a little disoriented, but followed anyway. The kids never got up.

"W-What happened to—"

"Why don't _you_ tell _me_? What happened back there to distract you from your purpose? You had a mission to fulfill, did you not?"

Katsuro cut his eyes to the side.

He couldn't tell Itachi that those big kids had surprised him in the alley. They'd peppered him with questions and, when he ignored them, they resorted to taunts and threats.

_Didn't he know this was their alley, in their town? Didn't he know that all this belonged to them? And what was a scrap of a kid doing in a place like this anyway? Lost his way from mommy and daddy?_

Katsuro ignored them. He ignored them so hard his face burned as he leaned against the wall of the alley and tried to listen for sounds of the shopkeeper returning to his store. Itachi had told him to stay put and look out, and he wasn't going to fail at his task because of a bunch of dumb kids.

But it was getting harder to hear over their growing taunts. And when a stone whacked his shoulder, he knew he couldn't ignore them any more.

The biggest kid stood in the middle of the alley. He laughed and bounced another stone in his hand.

"Yeah, I threw it," he sneered. "Whatcha gonna do about it?" The other boys had stepped back, giving their leader pride of place. But they snickered and teased from the sides.

Katsuro clutched his shoulder and shot the kid an angry glare. But he didn't move. He had his mission after all. And even though the road in front of the store was completely empty, it didn't mean the shopkeeper couldn't come back at any time. Itachi was relying on him to—

"What? You think you're some kind of ninja or something?" That got big laughs. "I could whip a scrawny thing like you in my sleep. Here," he growled and tightened his grip around the stone. "Let me show you what a real ninja's like..."

Like striking a match in the darkness, hot anger blazed up within Katsuro. He forgot all about his mission.

The big kid snapped back his arm to hurl the rock, and Katsuro launched off the wall in blind fury. He tried to tackle him, but the kid easily sidestepped. Katsuro flailed through the empty air. Mean laughter rang in his ears.

Katsuro righted himself as the other kids closed in the circle. Only he and the group's leader were left in the center. And the big kid looked down at Katsuro with a knowing smirk.

Katsuro didn't care. He may be smaller than all of them, but he was special. _He_ was the ninja. Not these street rats. And he'd show them….

But it didn't exactly work out the way he thought it would.

And Itachi was still waiting for an explanation. Katsuro nervously rubbed the back of his neck.

"Uh…. They were picking on…on a kid." He cleared his throat. "And I, uh...stepped in to help." He laughed and shrugged and hoped Itachi bought it.

The dark-haired nin only gave him a long, hard look. The corner of his mouth twitched in irritation. But that was it. Without another word he turned and moved briskly back down the lane to the dark woods beyond the town.

Katsuro blinked once, then scrambled to catch up. "But what happened to them?"

"Genjutsu," Itachi said flatly. "It cuts deeper than a kunai."

"Oh. Yeah. A genjutsu." Katsuro clearly had no idea what that was.

Itachi snorted. "There are more weapons in a shinobi's arsenal than just dull blades."

Katsuro was silent while they slipped from the cover of the alley and into the treeline. But after they were safely past the edge of the forest, his ruminations continued. "Genjutsu…. Was that the cold thing I felt—"

"You felt that?" Itachi looked sharply at him. "You didn't see an illusion? But you could feel it?"

"Yeah…like a cold air or something." Katsuro had to resist shuddering, but the discomfort was plain on his face. "I didn't see any illusions though. Is that what happened to them?"

Itachi resumed his detached explanation. "Yes. Genjutsu projects an illusion into your opponent's brain. You trigger their fears, they believe it's real."

Katsuro was deathly silent. "You mean…. Are they…? Did you…?"

"No. They're alive. They've just experienced a projection of their fears and passed out from it. When they get up they'll never remember what happened to them."

"Oh…then I was just standing close enough to feel it…." Katsuro lapsed into silence again.

Itachi watched him from under hooded eyes, until he was satisfied that Katsuro wasn't going to push for more information. The experience must have frightened the boy. Well then, this was probably his limit. His shinobi dreams would end now that he witnessed first hand what was involved—

"That's so cooooool!" Katsuro wailed. A bird shot out of the treetops. "Can you teach me? I would looove to learn how to—"

Itachi rolled his eyes and picked up the pace. "No."

"Oh please!" Katsuro bounced like an excited puppy. "Then it wouldn't matter if I was against one or 150—"

"No," Itachi repeated flatly."You'd kill yourself before your first opponent dropped."

This drew a cacophony of dissent from Katsuro, which Itachi ignored. However the longer he mulled the idea, the more he saw its merits.

Finally, Itachi cleared his throat.

"If you are going to travel with me," he said slowly, "you will have to at least _look _like you've had some formal education. That display was a disgrace." Katsuro muttered to himself and kicked a stone. "However…. It would be wise to learn how to defend and attack, in case I'm not there to save you."

Katsuro punctuated a grumble with a "Wha—?" He gulped. "W-What did you say?"

Itachi smirked "I said I'll teach you enough to get yourself out of a jam." _But nothing more. Enough to stay alive, but not enough to escape._

"A-and will I get to learn about—"

"No. No genjutsu."

After that, a little "training" was incorporated into their daily routine, no matter where they were. And Katsuro was thrilled, even if it wasn't exactly what he expected.

Itachi would show him a technique once. Only once. And Katsuro had to catch on quickly. There were no questions, no second chances. Itachi did not inspect his form and never sparred with him. Katsuro had to be satisfied with trying out his kicks and punches on any obliging tree trunk.

Itachi often disappeared for hours at a stretch, sometimes coming back with supplies, sometimes nothing at all. But Katsuro didn't mind. He just worked and worked.

Itachi would pass by, frown, deliver a judgement — _Your angle's off. Your wrist is wrong. Your kick is too slow._ — then sail past, leaving Katsuro to decipher his comment. Katsuro would silently return to hacking away at the tree, trying for hours more to shift his balance, stiffen his wrist or snap his kicks. He never knew whether Itachi was pleased or not. But he continued at it, working until he'd collapse next to the fire circle, his body impossibly sore.

Katsuro could not have known that Itachi was actually surprised and a little impressed by his tenacity. His desire to be a shinobi was only strengthened by the hard work. The boy certainly didn't have the prowess of the Uchiha, but he more than made up his shortcomings by sheer stubbornness.

And that willpower carried Katsuro through the months and years ahead. He grew to know himself, and Itachi began to rely on the boy's tenacious streak to get things done. Katsuro took everything he did seriously. So when Itachi received a scroll instructing him to manage a small squad of Rain village rebels, bringing with it greater responsibility and the risk of exposure, the Uchiha was not concerned at in the slightest. The young man accompanying him already looked the part of his apprentice.

* * *

The sloping woodland hillside was an unbroken line. Leaves and roots dipped and swelled, but otherwise it was vacant. The man scanned it thoroughly. Nope. Nothing here.

_Damn it. He'd lost him again. How could one kid be so—_

A leaf fluttered up unnaturally. Then another.

The man narrowed his eyes and watched the spot.

It moved again. This time he saw a flash of fingers. It was the corner of a black traveling cloak, not leaves, that was jerking up. The kid was tugging it over him.

He must have gotten comfortable, because the small flutters of movement finally ceased. The kid never even woke up.

The man pivoted noiselessly on the branch and thanked his good fortune. A moment later and he would have missed him completely.

* * *

A voice echoed across the dark fabric of his dreams….

"Katsuro! _KATSURO!_"

The words and a fist hit him at the same time.

Katsuro skidded backwards across the dirt, body curling up around his gut, where the well-placed fist had just sent him sailing.

The big man who delivered the punishing blow snickered meanly and popped his knuckles. He was nearly twice the size of Katsuro. When the kid didn't hop right back up, he looked over to the captain, shrugged, then strode off. His work here was done.

On the leafy ground of their campsite, Katsuro clutched his gut, wheezing around the ache. The captain's familiar face drifted into his line of vision, blotting out the sky.

"You left an opening," he said dryly.

Katsuro coughed. "_That's_ what you wanted to tell me?"

The old Rain captain smirked, then nodded. Katsuro just rolled his eyes. He wasn't sure if this was training or punishment. But he accepted the hand offered to help him up anyway.

"Don't forget, you're the one who asked for this."

"I know, I know," Katsuro waved him off. He just needed to walk around, then he would start to feel better.

"If you didn't pester the big boss so much—"

"Nah, it's part of my training."

Now it was the captain's turn to snort. But he kept his opinions about the boy's "training" to himself. After all, he had a whole camp of men to keep from killing each other. The kid was Itachi's problem. _His_ job here was to make sure the men didn't kill the boy.

"Well that's enough _training_ for today. I've got real work to do."

"Thank you, taichou," Katsuro said hurriedly. "And…um…."

Clearly something important was on his mind. It was etched into the boy's hopeful, upturned face.

But the captain already knew what he was going to ask. And though the answer was always the same, the boy asked anyway. It was like this every time.

The old captain sighed. He knew his obligation was to obey his superior, but damn if he didn't feel like he was throwing the kid in harm's way…

It had been this way from the beginning. He remembered the first day the black-haired nin and his scrap of an apprentice walked into the camp.

The Uchiha clearly was powerful, but he wasn't doing anyone any favors by dropping a 10-year-old into a rag-tag squad of bitter ex-soldiers and hired thugs. It was bad enough to be subordinate to an ex-Konoha shinobi…but babysit a kid too?

The men took their orders from the Uchiha. They had no choice. But they didn't like it. And almost immediately they directed their venom at the kid.

The boy upset their pecking order. New recruits were always hazed a bit, just to see what they were made of. Some had to forego tents, some got rusted weapons. And they always had to prove themselves before they earned the right to a warm meal. New recruits ate little, and most importantly, ate last.

But the boy was the exception. He chose his own tent. He picked out several shining kunai, even though they were entirely too big for his youthful hands. And he ate their food. However much he wanted, whenever he wanted. By the Uchiha's orders.

Yeah, he understood why they resented the kid.

However when the Uchiha asked the captain to find some occupation for the boy, he also understood the hidden message. He had 20-odd years of experience on the Uchiha deciphering cryptic commands from superiors. The dark-haired nin was asking the captain, in his polite way, to make sure the kid stayed alive. _He_ was the one going on babysitting detail. The man nearly groaned.

"Perhaps some weapons training, alongside the men," Itachi had said. "Just something to keep him busy. He'll do the rest himself."

The captain grit his teeth…and followed his orders.

But to his surprise, he discovered the Uchiha was right. The kid absorbed anything he was taught and worked until he mastered it. The captain was mildly impressed. And the men hated him even more.

So when the pup started pestering him about real training, sparring, hand-to-hand combat, anything and everything involving direct contact with the other soldiers, the captain's answer was a resounding "no." The kid would quickly find his end at the hands of one of the men, then it would be _his_ ass on the line.

But Katsuro wasn't dissuaded. Instead he took up his argument with the Uchiha. And much to the captain's chagrin, the unflappable shinobi finally relented.

"Let him try," he said blandly. "We'll see what he can do."

"Sir I strongly advise against this. The men would—"

"Yes, I know what they would do," Itachi snapped. "But he won't be quiet unless he tries. So let him. I'll step in if there's a problem. Dismissed."

The captain left the tent knowing for certain that his days were numbered. The Uchiha would not be able to intervene in time, and there was sure to be a problem.

The men openly taunted the kid and did their best to sabotage anything he was working on. They hadn't been able to lay a finger on him. Yet. But if they had a nod of approval for "sparring," then there would be no holding back. They would go after the boy with everything they had.

So the captain personally oversaw the sparring, choosing only the men who were used to taking orders. The soldiers who had fought under him during the civil wars respected him and would stop on his command. The new recruits — hired soldiers and glorified thugs — had less loyalty and almost no work ethic.

They did their jobs well enough. But they were young and fiery, and had not yet learned to be satisfied with a soldier's life of waiting and watching between missions.

So every night the new recruits sparked their own battles and spun their own tales of conquest and victory.

Firelight flickered from their clustered tents like a beacon, and the steady rumble of laughters and threats was always beckoning. If they weren't bragging then they were fighting. And if they weren't fighting, then they were betting the odds in someone else's fight. Occasionally someone smuggled in saki, and then the brawls got really loud. But most often it was posturing. The unruly men all had allies and rivals.

But the captain knew it was part of the territory when hiring thugs from local towns for their grunt work. They weren't soldiers, but they got the job done. And if these nightly activities kept them happy, then so be it. Outside of missions, this was their only occupation in a forest camp in the middle of nowhere. So he let it slide.

But he made absolutely certain the kid went no where near those men or their brawls.

Spars with a real soldier were the extent of Katsuro's training. The captain chose the man and let him knock a few punches into the kid. Some days Katsuro got a few licks in, other days a new maneuver would overpower him. But the kid learned. And always, days or weeks later, that same move would resurface with the boy's own twist. Sometimes it worked, sometimes not. But the captain saw now what the Uchiha did: This kid was different.

And because of that, the captain knew that a few rounds of spars would never be enough. The kid had a fire that wouldn't be snuffed out so easily.

The older man set his mouth in a grim line and waited for the question that inevitably followed his sparring round.

"Hey taichou…. So, do you think I'm ready for the next one?"

The kid couldn't stand on his own against one man in a spar in the middle of camp. How did he ever think he could survive a mission….

"No. No missions. Quit asking me. I've already told you—"

"But my punches are so much stronger and my stance is good. And you said once I was older…well, I'm already 11 so—"

"You think that matters? That this is all a game?" The captain had the look of a man who'd seen it all. "You think I could send you off on a mission, then call off the other guy _when_, not if, he overpowers you?"

Katsuro lowered his eyes for a moment. "I know I could do it. Just let me try! I'm not afraid of a fight—"

"And that's your first mistake," the captain snapped. "It's not about fighting. It's about surviving. And if I sent you out on a mission…." He rolled his eyes at the thought. "Well, you'd have to worry less about the men in front of you and more about the ones on either side."

Katsuro cocked his head and frowned, clearly puzzled.

The captain's exasperation returned full force. "_You're_ more likely to get killed by the men on your own squad before you've even fought anyone else!"

Katsuro's eyes went wide. He opened his mouth to argue, but nothing came out.

The captain smirked at Katsuro's unvarnished surprise. "Yeah. You see? So if _you've_ got two sets of opponents, then _you_ need to be twice as good as everyone else."

Katsuro shoulders slumped. The captain had to keep himself from laughing. What a kid….

"You don't know your opponents, you don't know how to fight, and you don't know what you're fighting for." The boy looked absolutely dejected. The captain wasn't heartless though. "Listen, the difference between fighting to win and fighting to survive is the difference between a dead soldier and a live one. And it's my job to keep you alive. So no missions. Quit asking."

The captain looked at the sullen boy expectantly.

Finally, Katsuro heaved a resigned sigh. "Hai, taichou." He bowed his head. "Thank you for the training."

The captain nodded once and strode off to begin his real work. The kid would make a good soldier one day, if only he could keep himself alive long enough. He just didn't realize the danger around him.

The older man had seen it often enough in his squads: This boy was the loose nail. He stuck out from the rest and was bound to be hammered down. Only time would tell if—

Rounding a row of tents, the captain surprised two men squatting at the front of one. Caught, they shoved whatever they were doing inside the flap and stood hurriedly to face their superior. But they kept their hands out of sight.

The captain narrowed his eyes as he approached.

These two were the troublemakers from the newest recruits. Lean, wiry 20-somethings, they were hired for their knowledge of the land and their willingness to get the job done. Any job. But they had an infuriating disrespect for authority. More than most of the hired men. These two picked fights, bet and stole, and generally disrupted order. And if they were skulking around someone's tent…well, they were probably up to no good.

The captain slowed to a stop and leveled a hard look at them. The men nodded with bright smiles. But the captain didn't buy it. Behind them, a suspiciously flat weapons pouch was shoved half beneath the canvas door. The captain recognized the pouch and the tent.

"What are you doing here?" he thundered. "These are not your things!"

The men shifted, both awkwardly stiff. Their hands were still hidden.

"Uh, we were just, you know, uh…."

The captain pointed at their bent arms. "Show me!"

Slowly, the men produced two passels of kunai, one set gleaming and bright, the other rusted and chinked. They were swapping Katsuro's prized kunai for old ones.

"Ah come on chief, we're just having some fun," said the smaller of the two.

The big one flashed a self-confident grin, shaking back his glossy brown hair. "Yeah, I'm sure the kid will think it's a good joke! After all, what's the point in having a little runt around if you can't…."

But his smug laughter thinned under the captain's cold glare.

"If I find out anyone else has touched the boy's things, they're out. And without pay!"

The men dropped Katsuro's weapons back in the pouch with a quick "Sorry, sir," and "Won't happen again," and strode off hastily. Only when they were a safe distance did they glance back furtively and begin whispering.

The captain pitched the full bag back in the tent. He drew a weathered hand slowly over his mouth while he thought. This wasn't the first time he caught someone tampering with Katsuro's things. Or "accidentally" tipping over his plate. Or "forgetting" to deliver a message to him. These men were just baiting the boy. He wondered if Katsuro realized it.

The captain sighed deeply. Not for the first time did he feel like he was sitting on a powder keg. And keeping a scrappy kid alive in the middle of a camp of hired killers should be the least of his concerns.

But the Uchiha had filled the boy's head with fantasies of shinobi life. The captain shook his head. Well, this was a far cry from a ninja village. And it was bound to end badly for the boy.

He turned to go. He had work to do and a report to deliver. But when he was finished, he'd ask the Uchiha again to send the boy home. Before it was too late.

The soft crunch of his receding footsteps was swallowed up by a gust of wind. Scattering leaves blurred away the empty campsite….

* * *

A sudden wind rushed in Katsuro's ears and blew over his sleeping body. A few damp leaves skittered over his hand. Without waking, he turned on his side and pulled the cloak tighter against the wind.

The dark shape creeping through the tree limbs stopped. He watched the boy's movement. Another breeze blew, rattling the leaves. But this time the boy didn't stir.

That was good. He could take his time and get into position. Edging closer, he moved from tree to tree calculating his sight lines. He wanted to find just the right one—

CRA-ACK!

_Damn! _He sprung straight off the groaning branch to a sturdy one, then swept his gaze over the hillside, sure the boy would have leapt up to fight or have fled again.

But to his surprise, the boy hadn't even moved. He sighed cautiously and settled down on the limb, deciding not to push his luck. This one would do just fine.

In the leaves, Katsuro did not stir. Even the sharp sound could not rouse him from his exhausted sleep. But the sinking feeling of trouble stayed with him, seeping into his dreams. Frown lines marred his smooth brow, and the corners of his mouth grew tight and pinched. He still slept, but it was no longer peaceful….

* * *

_"WHERE ARE THEY!"_

"I don't know what you're talking about."

Firelight slashed across the tents.

"My weapons," Katsuro demanded. "They're gone. And I know one of you took them!"

The men lazing around the campfire snickered. More men came out of the shadows between the tents at the sound of the kid's furious voice.

"I saw _you _at my tent earlier today," Katsuro said, pointing to a soldier sitting on the ground. "And _you_," he shifted to a man who just walked up "were carrying my pouch!"

The man between the tent threw up his hands, smiling innocently. "Hey I was just following orders. Cap'n asked me to get the supplies in order, an' I thought that's what I was doing." But as soon as Katsuro turned, the man's smile slipped to a sneer.

Katsuro turned in a circle, fuming and yelling up at a few of the standing men. They laughed outright.

Although he had grown remarkably in his years on the run, Katsuro was still a few heads shorter than the rest of the men. They were all at least 10 years older. And where these men had filled out with adulthood, Katsuro was still thin and soft. At 12 years old, Katsuro's face still carried more childish roundness than the men around him. And the flickering shadows made their faces look even more angular.

The hired men mocked him, casting taunts and cutting words at him. Their laughter was cruel, and their smiles were loaded. They knew where this was going...

Only the one sitting at the fire looked smug and comfortable.

"So, let me get this straight: You're missing something? And you think we have it?" The lean man laughed carelessly and raked fingers through his glossy brown hair. He was the ringleader of the newest recruits. His smug confidence won him many friends. And his ready fists kept the rest at a wary distance.

Katsuro knew who he was by reputation. The one with the looks and the fists. Stories of his conquests in the towns had followed him here. He charmed the girls and was vicious to his enemies.

Katsuro didn't care. He rounded on him anyway. "Yeah! My weapons. Where are they!"

The man flashed his palm. "Hmmm…. Don't see it anywhere around here…. Anyone seen the boy's weapons?" he called loudly. "He _needs_ them. Anyone seen them?"

The men laughed while Katsuro fumed.

Some of the soldiers who had trained with the boy quietly turned and left. They were loyal to their captain and wanted no part of this trouble. But the other new recruits quickly filled the gaps.

"Looks like it's not here," he said with a challenging grin. "And too bad you don't the captain's not here to help you."

Katsuro was blazing mad. He glared at all of them. He wanted so badly to…. But it didn't matter. The captain had ordered him to stay away from the new recruits. And he'd be furious with him for disobeying.

So with great restraint, Katsuro turned to go. He'd follow orders and let the captain handle it when he returned.

The man lazily stood and stretched, then called to boy's back, "What does a squirt like you need weapons for anyway?"

Katsuro stopped.

"You should be fetching _our_ food, cleaning _our_ weapons. Not using our best blades as playthings."

Katsuro's face burned, but he said nothing. Scornful laughter echoed around.

"What do you think, you're going to be a soldier? Go on missions? A scrap like you?"

Katsuro had had enough. It took every ounce of self-control, but he moved ahead to push through the loose ring of men. Suddenly a familiar clinking sound rang out.

"Well…. Now, look what I've found."

Katsuro turned slowly. The man bounced Katsuro's pouch up and down in on hand. His kunai jingled inside it.

"Give it to me." Katsuro's voice was shaky from anger.

The man shook his head. A few others snickered.

He smiled wickedly. "You know, I like this bag. And the blades are already so nice and sharp…. Nope. I think I'll be keeping these."

A hush fell. All eyes shifted to the kid.

Katsuro didn't move. His heart beat in his ears, and the hairs at the back of his neck stood on end. A fire was coursing through his veins. But he didn't move.

The man gave a cold, calculated laugh. He was the only one laughing now.

"Don't worry kid, I've seen your training. You're not going to be a soldier for very long. So why not—"

"A shinobi," Katsuro ground out.

The man tipped his head in genuine surprise. "W-What?"

"I'm not going to be a 'soldier,'" he spit out the word, "I'm going to be a shinobi. Now give me the bag."

The men roared with laughter.

"You! A ninja?" the man said between gasps. "That's the best one I've heard all day!"

That hot feeling, the one that turned his core molten, the one he couldn't ignore, swelled up inside Katsuro.

Until that moment he still believed he could leave. Just walk away. But now, he knew that was impossible.

Katsuro swung his gaze around. Surrounded by these men, their mocking faces distorted by firelight, cruel taunts spilling from their mouths….hot anger surged within him.

He didn't care what the odds were. He didn't care how many or how big they were. He wasn't going to back down. Those weapons belonged to him.

Katsuro launched at the man, tackling his midsection. The bag flung free. But the man didn't topple over as Katsuro hoped. Instead he caught himself and knocked Katsuro back across the forest floor.

"Just what I've been waiting for," the man said and stretched his neck muscles.

Around them, men hollered and packed closer. The circle they formed on the wide swath of black earth, with the campfire jutting in on one side, set the stage for a rip-roaring fight. And the possibility of that someone might roll through the small fire just added to the excitement for these men.

Katsuro growled angrily and sailed at the man, fists high and hard. But the man blocked him easily and pushed him back. The crowd hooted at the kid's failure.

Katsuro came at him again and again. And each time he was shut down. But he wouldn't give in.

No matter how many times the man pushed him back, Katsuro continued to hurl himself at the man, hoping to either hit him or wear him down. And Katsuro thought he was succeeding. The man's taunting expression slipped a notch each time Katsuro got back up.

Panting, Katsuro brushed the sand from his hands to buy himself a little time.

He didn't have a lot of moves in his arsenal. But he watched closely and learned quickly. One of the soldiers he sparred with had set traps. He used his hits to lull the opponent into expecting a pattern, then he surprised him. Katusuro thought it might work here.

Katsuro ran straight at him, just like the first time. The man easily blocked him and pushed Katsuro back in the loose dirt. Katsuro recovered and ran at him again. Again the man blocked him.

Never varying, Katsuro ran at him for a third time. He could hear the guy scoff at the move. Katsuro bit down on his secret smile. Instead of tackling his middle, Katsuro dodged the block and drove a two-knuckle fist into his ribcage.

The man yelped and pulled Katsuro off, throwing him hard across the sand.

The soldiers teased their peer about getting punched by a kid. And the man rubbed his side where Katsuro got him. Pushing up from the ground, Katsuro was smug. Tired, but smug.

The man leveled a hard look at the kid. "Looks like you've finally worn yourself out." He pushed his sleeves back. "Well that's too bad…. Because I'm just getting warmed up."

Katsuro was just scrambling up when the man was upon him, hoisting him up by his collar.

"You come in here, take our things, and think you're some kind of warrior? You think you're one of us?" The men around the circle stoked his anger with their growling calls. "You little shit. I'll show you your place…."

And he smashed his fist into Katsuro's cheek. Visceral cheers exploded around them.

Katsuro's was blinded by pain. Blood pooled in his mouth. Hot laughter pulsed over his face.

"Heh, you didn't like that did you. Well, let's see how you like this…" Then man pounded the kid with punch after punch. To his face. His chest. His gut.

The man pummeled him relentlessly, never giving Katsuro even a moment to gather his wits, let alone fight back. Katsuro realized between jabs that the man was just setting him up before. Letting him wear himself out.

The knowledge hit him nearly as hard as any of the knuckle punches did.

_Dammit. How could he have been so stupid!_

His eyes were swelling. His vision was getting blurry, and any blow to his face burned like fire.

_But he had to fight back. Somehow._

Katsuro growled and lurched forward. He was determined to stop him. Hit anything he could. And for a few shining seconds, he thought it might work. His fury of swinging arms and flailing fists did managed to find its target. Katsuro clipped his jaw once. But that was it. He frustratingly discovered the man's fighting skill wasn't all bragging and lies.

If Katsuro swung at his face, the man jabbed him in the stomach. If Katsuro dove for his abdomen, the move he had employed so effectively earlier, the man caught him with an uppercut. And the last one was a punishing one.

Katsuro's head flung back like a rag doll. His body could do nothing but follow. The boy staggered backwards once before falling flat on the ground with an unmistakeable "oof." His eyes blinked, but they stared up, unfocused, at the blackened canopy.

The jeers were louder than ever. The man watched the kid for a moment. When the boy didn't immediately move to get up, he looked around at the group. Their taunts turned to cheers. His victory was complete. He was smug and swaggering, relishing all the glory of a win over a boy half his age. He soaked up the loud attention, and the boy in the dirt was completely forgotten….

The cacophony of sound hadn't escaped the notice of the two men returning to camp. Noise of that level was strictly forbidden. The captain knew it could only mean one thing.

He glanced sideways at the Uchiha. The shinobi said nothing, but his mouth was in a grim line. They both increased their pace. This couldn't be good.

They hit the outside of camp just as a loud cheer went up. Beyond the black lines of tents and the shoulder-to-shoulder bodies was the diaphanous glow of light. The captain ground his teeth just imagining what he would find there.

As they silently crossed the near-empty camp, he had already decided that if he found Katsuro there, he'd beat each man involved into the middle of next week. The boy was _his_ responsibility, and an attack on him meant _his_ ass was on the line. It was a direct insubordination, and he wouldn't stomach men like that—

Itachi raised a hand to the captain. His eyes were sharp on the group as well, but he clearly wanted the captain to hold off on whatever he had planned. The older man frowned, but nodded.

They slowed until they were inconspicuous in their approach of the group. Another rowdy cheer went up. Heads bobbed and shoulders parted, and they got a clear view of the troublemaking recruit strutting in the pale glow of the fire. Whatever the skirmish, he had come out on top.

He swaggered and talked, popped his knuckles vainly, as if he'd just accomplished some fantastic victory. The captain scanned for his opponent but saw none.

Two men in the front laughed. One tipped back a sake bottle and leaned hard into the other. In the gap, the captain saw the sand. The splayed feet. The unmoving legs. A body was there. A body that was smaller than all the rest. His teeth ground together.

"I'll tear every one of them to pieces," he growled and began to push forward into the group. But Itachi clamped a hand down on the man's shoulder, stopping him.

The men in front of them jerked in surprise at the sudden threat, turned slowly, then went deathly silent. The shocked silence spread in a wave from that source, as each man desperately plotted out the fastest route back to their tent.

Not bothering to mask his rage, the captain glared back at Itachi. These were _his_ men. And he would discipline them how _he_ saw fit.

But Itachi wasn't looking at the men. It was as if he didn't see any of them at all. His eyes were firmly on the boy. Without turning, he nodded for the captain to look too.

Grudgingly, he did. He craned around one of the men in front of him for a better view. And this movement rippled slowly around the group, until all eyes were on the boy.

The man in the center never noticed the two latecomers, but he did register the shift in attention away from him.

He stopped walking and stared at the boy. The kid looked, well, different. Perhaps it was the firelight. But it made his skin look almost…almost…orange….

And the closer he got to the prone kid, the more distinctly uncomfortable he felt.

Something had shifted in the air and settled over the camp. A dark, ominous feeling. He didn't have to look around to know everyone felt it. And it had something to do with this boy….

The strange tint to his skin, the weird feeling…what the hell was wrong with this kid? He got closer for a better look.

Unbelievably, the kid was moving. His eyes were closed. Even wincing as if feeling pain. He was slowly moving, first his arms, then legs. His hands curled into tight fists. A muscle at his jaw jumped once. He grit his teeth.

The man ruthlessly stamped out his discomfort. It was just a stupid kid who needed to be taught a lesson. But leaning into to grab his collar, the man was sure he heard a low, guttural growl.

He forced himself to ignore it and hoisted the boy up by the front of his shirt.

"Dumbass kid. Don't know how to stay down, do you?"

The man drew back his fist to deliver the final blow….

_Am I…am I...dead?_

Katsuro stared up at the emptiness above him, trying to make sense of what had happened. He knew he'd just been knocked to the ground. But the sound of the men was growing fainter. And the black canopy of leaves had merged into a solid surface. Orange light still splashed across it, but he was sure he was no longer in the forest.

Other things were wrong: There was no more pain. His body felt warm and weightless. The only sound was the pounding of blood in his ears. His limbs moved gently on their own. It was strangely comforting. He knew he should be in a lot of pain but he felt pleasantly numb—

Warm water suddenly lapped over his throat.

Katsuro shot up with a gasp, sure now that he was drowning. He flailed for a moment before realizing the water was only a few feet deep.

However one look around and his feeling of drowning was supplanted by a deeper, more visceral fear. He sat in the water, unable to move. In front of him, stretching to a ceiling that seemed higher than any forest canopy, was an enormous metal gate.

Katsuro sunk down in the water.

He knew where he was…. This was the cell. From the dream. It _was_ real…and there was no way to escape it.

The horrible thrumming sound pulsed everywhere now. He knew it was a heartbeat. And it wasn't his.

Katsuro stared up at the gate. Locked behind it must be the demon fox Itachi talked about. Katsuro moved his head slowly, peering through the bars. His blood turned to ice when he thought he saw eyeshine.

As if responding to his fears, a hot wind blasted through the gate. Katsuro blocked his face with his hands, but it scalded him anyway. His cheek twinged with pain and his stomach hurt, but the feeling faded with the cooling air.

A long, low growl was followed by another blast. This time, Katsuro's whole face burned. And his gut ached like it was slowly being wrenched.

He tried to turn from the wind and stand, but the pain at his midsection was so intense it doubled him over.

Water surged from behind the bars and rushed around him, knocking him down. Now the water was superheated. And his body suddenly registered every injury from his fight: his face, his ribs his knuckles. Everything ached. The back of his head throbbed from where he'd been knocked to the ground.

The water surged again and poured over his hunched shoulders. The pain at his middle, however, was the worst. It was blinding. He couldn't even find the breath to scream out in agony.

The water churned higher, burning his neck, splashing over his head. Katsuro was sure he be was being torn in two. He curled in on himself, despite the heat. The water was going to swallow him…and he was going to let it. He was going to let it take him—

Heat devoured him. He didn't know if it was air or water anymore. But it encompassed him and roared in his ears, tumbling over him.

Then the exploding pain in his gut obliterated everything else. He felt like he'd been cleaved in half. Molten heat coursed through his middle. All feeling was gone. All sense of self was erase. There was nothing else left of him but that one spigot of lava pouring from his gut—

The roaring sound in his ears took on a life.

"Get up…."

When Katsuro didn't move, it growled at him again.

_"GET UP!"_

Confused and reeling, Katsuro obeyed. He struggled to stand, only to find that the water was quickly receding. He was surprised to find he could still breath…and even moreso that he was still in one piece. He climbed to his feet and slowly straightened.

The pain was fading with the ebbing water. But the sensation that he'd just had his gut wrenched open was still unmercifully strong. He lifted his shirt to inspect what must surely be a wound and was astonished to find a tattoo-like mark in at his navel. A black spiral was surrounded by scrawled lines and characters, and encircled with five glowing characters. They looked like they'd just been branded into his skin. He poked at one; it was excruciatingly painful.

Then before his eyes, the whole thing faded right back into his skin. He would have thought it was an illusion if it didn't still hurt so badly. He dropped his shirt, keeping the fabric loose at his stomach, and looked up at the gate.

It was only then that he realized his vision had radically changed. Everything was blood red and strangely delineated. Katsuro looked hard through the bars. For the first time he could see a shape back there. It was really, really big and—

_"Dumbass kid…" _

The words were distant, echoing in from somewhere beyond the room….

Scalding air roared through the bars. "GET UP NOW!"

Katsuro suddenly felt like his head was going to burst. He winced and clutched his temples. The pounding sound filled his ears. Something was wrong….

_"Don't know how to stay down, do you—"_

Katsuro opened his eyes to see a fist barreling right at him. Somehow, he'd slammed back into his body on the ground of the forest camp. Acting purely out of instinct, he summoned all his strength and punched up at the man.

The blow cracked the man's jaw and pitched him backwards into the dirt.

"Little shit," the man snarled, spitting blood.

Katsuro was still disoriented. He couldn't believe he'd hit him so hard. And worse, everything was red. Blood red. Just like before….

In that moment of hesitation, the man pounced, driving his knee into Katsuro's gut. He pinned the boy with his full weight and yanked him up again.

"I'll teach you a lesson you'll never forget," he rasped past bloody teeth. His fist was up, and he was going to pound the boy's face to oblivion.

Katsuro saw it all coming through that awful red vision which illuminated every movement as if it were daylight. He could sense the man's bloodlust, and instinctually, he knew he had to fight back. Somehow, he had to survive this.

The man released his fist to drive it through Katsuro's face.

Katsuro saw it coming through eyes that were no longer his. The guttural growl that tore form his throat sounded unfamiliar to his ears. And the two-knuckle punch that smashed into the man's temple as soon as he was in range, was driven by a power Katsuro had never known.

It stole the thrust from the other man's blow. Katsuro quickly shoved the man off and scrambled to his feet.

His opponent was slower to recover but he was determined win. He slipped a blade from a hidden arm holster down into his hand, and came at the boy again.

The man threw a weak punch, then another. Katsuro evaded them with ease, but he watched closely. That preternatural feeling had not left him. And on the third slice of fist through the air, Katsuro saw it: the glinting edge of the blade tucked between the man's fingers. It gleamed as if reflecting the light of a blood-red sun.

The man was setting him up, going in for the kill.

An overwhelming survival instinct kicked in again. His stomach ached and his red vision sharpened even more.

Beads of sweat pricked the man's forehead as he advanced for the final blow. His brown hair, now flecked with dirt, splayed behind him. The blood smeared on his cheek was already drying. Katsuro registered it all in crystal clarity.

The man opened his mouth and snarled something, but Katsuro couldn't hear it. The steady pounding in his ears was drowning everything else out.

Katsuro didn't even have to think about what came next. It just…happened.

The loaded fist whistled around toward the boy's ribcage. But instead of curving to protect his body, Katsuro lunged forward and drove his fist straight up under the man's chin.

The force of the blow shot him up off his feet and launched him back into one of the tents. When the dust cleared and fabric of the smashed tent settled, the man's feet stuck out from the end, unmoving.

It was over. He had done it.

Katsuro heaved a breath. The energy that had fueled him receded like the tide. The thrumming noise died away. His vision dimmed to black. He felt dizzy, and his injuries were becoming more and more painful. Something wet and slick was trailing down his ribcage.

Only then did he remember where he was. He looked slowly around. Men stood shoulder to shoulder and stared him down. Some were shocked, some were fearful, some were furious. But they were unanimous in one aspect: All of them knew that no boy should have that much power. Cold distrust was written on all their faces.

Itachi stepped forward from the back of the group, and the men dispersed.

"I knew you could control it," he said quietly. This time, there something like a real smile on his face.

The captain checked on the defeated soldier. "Somebody see if he can be patched up…."

The last of Katsuro's energy guttered out and everything went black.

After hauling the unconscious boy to his tent, the captain returned to find the Uchiha still standing at the empty campsite. He was watching the dying fire, deep in thought.

"I think," Itachi said slowly, "it's in our best interest to step up his training." There was an undeniable note of satisfaction in his voice.

The captain nodded once. Obviously, the boy was more powerful than any of them realized. And that didn't sit well with him.

"Yes, he seems to have a unique skill…."

Itachi cleared his throat. "It's a family jutsu. Something he was born with. A legacy, if you will."

The captain was placated by the explanation. He may not be a shinobi, but he'd seen plenty of evidence of special skills in his experiences as a soldier. There was no question this kid was a shinobi.

"Maybe we should let him spread his wings a bit," Itachi said. "Otherwise it's going to be like this every time we leave." Both men looked at the churned-up ground, the blood-spattered leaves. "Just keep him busy. Let him go on a mission or two. Close by, and supervised. See how it goes. I'll worry about his jutsu."

Thinking he was dismissed, the captain shifted to go. But to his surprise, Itachi continued.

"I apologize for any inconvenience to your squads or missions. Your man—"

"He had it coming to him," the captain snapped, remembering finding him and one of his friends tampering with Katsuro's kunai some months back. There was no telling what else they'd done.

"Still, my apologies for the disruption."

This time it did feel like a dismissal, but the captain didn't leave. The Uchiha's courteousness had made him stand out from other military men he'd known. And frankly, it had made this transition much smoother. All the way from the bottom up. They all respected and feared the Konoha nin. And though the men felt the exact opposite about the Uchiha's apprentice, the captain, for one, was glad the boy had come as part of the bargain. He was a surprising kid. Must be why Itachi picked him.

"I think," the captain cleared his throat, "I think the kid will do well. He manages to land on his feet."

"Yes," Itachi said slowly, "he does seem to do that, doesn't he…."

"I was concerned that maybe he'd bitten off more than he could chew this time." The captain tipped his chin toward the blood-stained earth. "But he came out alright. Even used some of what he'd learned from training…as well as that jutsu…."

Itachi cut a suspicious glance at the ruminating captain.

"I guess what I'm saying is that I think he'll be a good asset to the group. Sir."

"Ah. That's good to hear. I will entrust his training to you then."

The captain nodded, and Itachi swiftly left.

The older man paused for a moment before crossing the near-silent camp. His mouth quirked into a small smile. It was ironic: He no longer felt like he was on babysitting detail.

The kid was surprising. All that raw power and resolve packed into one scrawny body. He was looking forward to seeing how he would shape up as a soldier. Shoving his hands in his pockets, he made his way back to his tent.

Days later, Katsuro's body still ached. He lay flat on the cold ground inside his tent. But it didn't do much good. He still felt like he'd been burned alive.

But he wasn't afraid anymore. In fact, he felt strangely in control. For the first time, he knew what was happening to him.

Itachi had stopped by early on to speak softly about his "jutsu." He offered his best guess as to what had brought it out and the aftereffects he could expect. The pain was intense, but the knowledge eased his mind.

"From what I understand, the demon will react if it's host is under threat. It must have thought you were going to die."

"So it was protecting me?" Katsuro said. There was something hopeful in his voice.

Itachi laughed. "It was protecting _itself_. You're just the vessel."

Katsuro's face fell. "Oh."

"But the kyuubi forced you to open the seal. And now that you know the feeling, you can begin to control it. From what I've studied, twisting open the seal lets you access all that power."

Katsuro thought that was the last thing in the world he wanted to do. But he didn't want to tell Itachi that. He yawned instead of giving a response. And thankfully Itachi didn't press him. He closed the flap to let the boy rest.

A day later the captain poked his head into the tent to sternly inform the boy that because of his outrageous display he was to be hereby stripped of all campsite duties. Katsuro winced and shut his eyes. This was what he was afraid of—

"I have no use for someone like you in my camp." It was the coldest tone Katsuro had ever heard from the captain. "_Someone like you_…needs to be out. Occupied. Tasked. Not free to laze around, hiding your talent and picking on the other men." Katsuro barely listened. He just couldn't bear it.

"Do you understand what I'm telling you, boy?" he barked. "The longer you lay around here, the more missions you are going to miss!"

Katsuro's brown eyes popped open. He hunched forward, struggling to see the captain's face. Even though his vision was still blurry, Katsuro couldn't miss the grinning leathery blob at the opening of his tent.

"A-are you serious?"

"Yes, I am." Katsuro could hear the smile in his voice. "You've proved you can hold your own. You've learned the difference between fighting to win and fighting to survive. And that's better than any training you could ever have. So rest up. I'm going to need some help on a few missions."

"You mean, me? I get to— You mean, I could—" Katsuro was pushing himself up onto his elbows, but the pain was intense. He had to gasp between astonished thoughts, but it didn't deter him. The captain laughed.

"Get your rest. You're no use to me like this. But soon, soon…. I'll work you so hard you'll be begging to crawl back to your tent! You're a soldier now, boy…." And the flap fell closed.

Katsuro barely had time to process it all when the captain poked his head back in the tent.

"Almost forgot." He pitched a wad of bandages at the boy. "Itachi-sama said you were a fast healer, but I had no idea…."

His eyes drifted over the boys face. By all rights, his eyes should have been swollen shut, lips busted, and he should certainly have some broken bones. But the boy sat up smiling. His face was puffy and there were a few bluish marks, but it was nothing to the injuries he should have been showing after a thrashing like that.

"Anyway, wrap up. I've seen enough shinobis to know they don't like to give any of their secrets away if they don't have to." Katsuro went giddy at the implication of the man's easy words. "And you don't want to be a target for others who'd like to see just how fast you can heal."

The captain let the door flutter close, but his laughter still echoed through the fabric.

Katsuro grinned so wide it hurt.

The next years fell away around him. In some ways, life was exactly how he wanted it. Missions and jobs. Running errands and seeing new places. He had a power no one could touch and a life of freedom.

But there were some dark aspects too…although he supposed he'd never be free of that. The men never accepted him. New or old, they distrusted the boy with hidden powers and who was under the protection of the big boss. They were always looking for ways to take him down. Brawls took the place of formal sparring. And Katsuro learned by fighting his way out.

Some of the missions required dirtier work than he ever imagined a shinobi would do. But he chalked that up to child's romantic view over a teen's wider understanding. Robberies and ambushes, injury and even death were part of their life. But they had to survive. And they had to protect themselves. And sometimes for them to live, someone else must die.

After all, there had to be some sacrifice for change. Itachi was reluctant to explain it the larger plan, why they had linked up with old Rain village rebels in the first place, but Katsuro heard enough to get the picture. And he was happy to be a part of it, building something brand new, where he would never be excluded….

The darkest shadow on his new life was threat of Konoha. It loomed over him, following him everywhere. If he had been closer with any of the men, he may have been tempted to share in some of their exploits in the towns. But as he wasn't, it was a convenient excuse to stick to the shadows and keep his identity concealed. Their distrust was deep and mutual.

But Katsuro could care less. He trusted Itachi, and the captain was giving him more and more responsibility. This was the life that he'd always dreamed of. He had everything he wanted. He was a true shinobi, and he was free.

Katsuro sat beside a wavering campfire, kicked his legs out and threaded his fingers together behind his head. He had grown long and lean over the years. He wasn't as big as the other men yet, but by now, at almost 17, he was getting close.

He stretched back. He was always on the move, and he knew how to keep himself safe. He was confident and in control. And he loved it.

Katsuro looked around at the dark lines of forest. Others traveled in fear here, but he had nothing to be afraid of. He was a shinobi, after all.

Katsuro breathed deeply, feeling fully satisfied. It couldn't get any better than this….

* * *

The restless wind slowed to a gentle breeze. It ruffled the bangs on Katsuro's forehead. He heaved a shuddering breath and slipped into a more restful sleep, shifting in the leaves to get more comfortable. The two kunai shoved in his thigh holster clinked together lightly. He stilled at the sound….

* * *

In the dark forest of his dream, Katsuro listened hard. He was sure he'd hear it: Laughter. It was sweet and tinkling, and it filled his ears for a moment.

He scrambled to his feet.

He knew this sound. Better than he knew anything else in the world.

Katsuro looked around wildly for the source, for some sign, but there was nothing to see. The light from the campfire had gone strangely weak. It couldn't illuminated the darkness that encompassed him. And without that sound, the woods seemed suddenly empty.

The merry tinkling rang out again. This time much more distant.

It was _her_.

And wherever she was, he knew he wanted to be there….

He swallowed dryly and plunged into the darkness, following the sound. He was leaving behind his mission, his responsibilities. But it didn't matter. All he cared about was getting to her.

Katsuro ran until the black dissolved into blue. He hurtled over leaf-littered ground, past soldier-rows of tree trunks. He kept going, bursting through grasping bamboo groves and leaping over glittering moonlit ponds. The darkness had to give way, it had to yield. If he could just keep going….

The laughter rang out, and he ran towards its dawning light. It pulled him over barley fields, shimmering in the golden heat. Past villages and towns, full with merchants stalls and forgettable faces.

He kept going until the landscape blurred green beneath him.

She laughed again and Katsuro looked up, finally seeing for the first time. A large green tree beckoned from the top of an expanse of green hillside.

She was there. Her pink hair swayed as she swept her gaze out over the valley. Then she slowly walked out of sight behind the tree.

Katsuro's chest went tight. She was so close. But reaching the top, he impulsively looked back as well, suddenly curious to see what caught her attention.

The unending green that surrounded them twisted and turned like the smooth background of the temple painting. Below him was the motley painted village. His enemy, he knew. But this time, he had the light feeling that they supported him, even cheered him on. A gust of wind skittered up, carrying their good wishes, he was certain of it. He breathed in and something in his chest unclasped. They were no longer his enemy. The burden he'd never known he carried was released. He turned to the one who brought this all to him….

But a flurry of white petals blocked his view. The hilltop tree had disappeared. Instead he found himself under the cherry tree from the temple painting. Long streams of blossoms fell perpetually to the ground around him. Behind him, the sound of swirling waters churned the air.

But in front of him, a blotted figure was slowly emerging from the petals. He turned fully toward her, not wanting to miss a thing. She was laughing. He wanted to ask what was so funny, but he kept forgetting the words.

She emerged through the threads of petals. Pink hair and green eyes filled up his vision. Katsuro forgot how to speak.

Then suddenly, she was right in front of him. She raised her hand and brushed the petals from his hair. She laughed again, and this time he laughed with her.

Certainty filled up the hollow well he'd always carried inside. The hole where the kyuubi lived. But the kyuubi didn't exist here. That was just a nightmare from someone else's life. This, this right here was what he wanted. He never wanted to leave.

She smiled and stepped back, beckoning him wordlessly to come with her. To stay. _Please, stay._ He couldn't move, though. Not yet. He remembered this feeling too, caught between wanting to hold on longer and yet not wanting to shatter their fragile harmony.

A soft breeze filtered through the trees, swaying the branches. Petals swirled around them. She smiled, and the blossoms streaked in pale reflections across her eyes. He watched her and, breathing deeply, let the warmth of the moment fill him. It washed away his fears.

Wherever they were, they were safe. There was no need to run. There was no need to hide.

She smiled and held out her hand to him.

They had all the time in the world here. They were finally free.

He stepped forward, stretching his fingers toward her.

* * *

On the hillside, Katsuro turned suddenly in the leaves. He flung one arm over his face, blocking out the dim glow of the predawn sky, and flopped the other out wide beside him. He drew in a deep breath. His mouth eased into an almost-smile. And in the leaves, his hand softly curled open.

* * *

The huddled shape in the darkened treetops shifted, taking notice of the small movement on the ground. But as nothing came of it, the body settled back into its previous position against the tree. He could wait. He had all the time in the world now. He'd finally found his prey.

* * *

**Author's notes:**  
Another ridiculously long chapter. Seriously. I don't know why I write so much. And I made a New Year's resolution to get a new chapter out every month and I've already blown it for January! Ack! But I'm going to try to change up the writing to more plot-driven than character-driven for the next few chapters, so hopefully it will go faster. So many thankyous to reviewers: witchymage and kung fu truffle, thanks so much you guys. Seriously. Riseagainst, piper julian and winter knight, many, many thanks. luvtoshi, so glad you like it - it means the world to me! ia3, joele and hatakevan, footster, narutorocks and jho, thanks so much! Beautifully deranged and devillove, shazlin and justalittletwisted, gmg and bhel-elryss, thank so so so much. I loved reading your comments. And to everyone I've missed, thanks again. I truly appreciate it. I love writing this, and I'm so glad you like to read it! As always, read and review, and visit swirlingpetals dot com for extra notes, spoilers and previews.

**Chapter notes:**  
I have the bad guys cursing in this one, but I've tried to keep it to a minimum, on the good advice of the inimitable kungfu. But these guys really are bad, so it's ok. ;) And this is a dreamy flashback, but I break all kinds of rules. Namely that it's not completely in Katsuro's pov. So please forgive that. It was important to convey the information here. But it did drift into dreamy territory at the end, so that's good!

• _The wind pushed down through the tree again, kicking up a swirl of leaves. Then suddenly, right in front of his eyes, a dark shape materialized in the spaces between leaves…. _— So I've mentioned this a few times, where a shinobi uses wind to disguise his movements. I'm not really getting into how exactly this works, like the manga does. I'm more enjoying writing about the stealthiness of ninjas and the fear it must illicit. In this story, the ninja employ low level stealth tricks before relying on actual jutsus to accomplish their goals. Good for strategy, conservation of energy, concealment of techniques, etc.

• _But Itachi was different. He was methodical and precise, like packing up his blanket when not in use or hiding the orange peels so as not to leave a trace._ — So you can see where Katsuro models some of his behaviors from, the ones that are little ooc for canon Naruto. Like cleaning up after himself!

• _Itachi held Naruto's chin and thumbed over the lines, closely inspecting them. It was the same as the other shinobi, but there was a courtesy in Itachi's manners._ — So, I'm writing Itachi as respectful and courteous. But even that is a little shinobi trick. He's polite to keep other people comfortable and therefore pliable. He's not courteous because he's nice; he does it because he's working towards a goal. And it's easier to have people bend to your respectful behavior than to have to force them. (Remember the Katsuro's "Better to yield to force, than force to yield" from the first chapters?) So in writing Itachi's interactions with Katsuro, he is always polite, but never friendly. There is always a distance, no matter how considerate he is to the boy. I hope this has come through here. Katsuro doesn't see it, because he's never known friendship. But the reader hopefully will be able to see it. And then when he meets Sakura, and has a taste of unconditional love, it shifts his whole understanding of the world around him.

• Naruto's transformation jutsu — There is no reference for how Tsunade's regeneration jutsu was first applied. (You know, the one that gave her the purple diamond on her forehead.) So I patterned this off the one Kakashi used to seal Sasuke's curse mark. It's a big jutsu, full-bodied and long-term, so it would need a big application and extra knowledge.

• _Naruto scrambled out of his hiding spot and dashed down the dirt path beside the building. Itachi frowned at his echoing footsteps._ — Naruto marvels at Itachi's stealthiness, then later tries to be quiet and fails miserable. This is a little contrast to the current time, when Sakura marvels at Katsuro's stealthiness. So it's a comparison showing how much he's grown from the start.

• _Then suddenly, everything went cold. Naruto felt a light breeze on his skin. But a deeper chill had taken hold. As if being frozen from the inside out. Somehow, he knew this, remembered it, deep in his bones. Maybe deeper still. This bitter cold creeping in, smothering and freezing him, making him forget…. _— We know in the manga that the Kyuubi was controlled by Madara's sharingan. And we know the kyuubi hates Madara because of it. So I've written Katsuro as feeling an extension of the kyuubi's fear in response to the sharingan. Particularly feeling cold. When he sees Madara and when he gets a front-row seat to Itachi's genjutsu, Katsuro feels remarkably cold. Like his identity is being frozen and all control is being taken away. This is in direct contrast to the hot, encompassing fear Katsuro feels around the kyuubi. And to Katsuro himself who is always overly warm. So the Uchiha power is written as feeling the opposite of the kyuubi's power. And it reinforces the general differences between Naruto and the Uchihas (light/dark, etc.).

• _"You felt that?" Itachi looked sharply at him. "You didn't see an illusion? But you could feel it?"_ — even the all-knowing Itachi doesn't quite understand how Katsuro could sense the genjutsu. He guesses it's the kyuubi, but he's clearly underestimated the connection between host and demon.

• _"You don't know your opponents, you don't know how to fight, and you don't know what you're fighting for." The boy looked absolutely dejected. The captain wasn't heartless though. "Listen, the difference between fighting to win and fighting to survive is the difference between a dead soldier and a live one."_ — So this is a little bit of the tough stance like Katsuro took with Sakura in the temple. This is where it came from.

• _"I knew you could control it," he said quietly. This time, there something like a real smile on his face. _— Itachi took a gamble and it paid off. He didn't have any way to train Katsuro as demon hosting and sealing is not his specialty. And being on the run he has no access to information. But he was hoping that the kyuubi would preserve its host. And it did. So experience becomes Katsuro's teacher.

• _Itachi cleared his throat. "It's a family jutsu. Something he was born with. A legacy, if you will." _— line specifically referencing Itachi's statement in the manga, when he returns to Konoha and confronts Kakashi, Kurenai and Asuma, saying he was there for the Fourth's legacy.


	30. Loose Ends

**Chapter 30 - Loose Ends**

Sakura curled the hair behind her ears and took one last look around. She had to get going. She couldn't put it off any longer. With a sigh, Sakura left the small inn and stepped out into the lane.

The grey pavers matched the early morning sky. Sakura walked alone through the still-sleeping village. Solitude had never bothered her. But turning onto the canal, witnessing the dramatic change just a few hours could make, gave her a sharp, empty feeling like none she'd yet experienced.

Last night, the cherry trees still bore their spindrift blossoms. Clouds of pink and white still rained petals over the canals, luring crowds of festival goers as if by mysterious force.

But in the cold light of morning, the thin branches were stripped bare. Jumbled rooflines were visible through the haze of limbs. And the lanes were empty.

Sakura silently crossed the bridge. Trodden petals covered the ground or floated in dull sheets atop the once-silver water. Discarded food cartons and smashed festival toys punctuated the litter with jarring color. Everything else was grey. Sakura sighed. Whatever magic was there last night, it had flown with the petals.

A few vendors were busy sweeping out their storefronts, but none offered a greeting to the passing girl. They, as she, had other things on their mind. Sakura kept looking and hoping. She told herself he may yet come. But she was believing it less and less.

Everything seemed so different now. She gripped the straps of her pack a little tighter. This mission had turned out to be nothing like she expected.

She had been so wrong…. The arrogant diplomat and the preening politician — they were both using her. And she had been too stupid and conceited to see it. She thought she was in control, but she was completely in over her head….

Sakura shook her head, ridding herself of the destructive thoughts, and quickened her pace across the large grey pavers toward the gate.

At the enormous red doors she stopped and turned back. The flawless facade was shattered. Now all she saw was deception. From the shiny storefronts and elegant homes to the men and women who made their living here.

Sakura swept her gaze over the rooflines. _And he still had not come._

She sighed deeply and pushed off the from the door. Bits of shiny red paint flaked off under her hand, revealing a dingy undercoat that refused to be varnished over.

Sakura frowned up at the old door. Close up, it was cracking and splintered. Long streaking rust stains were barely covered by the fresh paint. In the excitement of the first day she had overlooked all the imperfections.

Remembering Konoha's large solid gates, built for strength and protection, not fleeting beauty, Sakura suddenly longed to be home. She brushed her hands and set off.

But just past the village woods another disparity stopped her in her tracks.

Only a few days before, she had marveled at the gorgeous old cherry in full bloom at the town's stone marker. It was so perfect, even reminding her of that magnificent tree in the temple painting. She had passed under its branches and was filled with hope for the days ahead.

But the petals were long gone.

Now, spindly purple branches shivered in the light breeze. The gnarled trunk was exposed, and the tree's roots clung to the grassy bank as if still holding on against an invisible wind.

Sakura bit her lip. It was ironic: She may have been named for the blossoms, but today she felt more like that old tree. The glorious petals were gone, but still the tree stood. Her hopes had been dashed, but she still had to persevere.

She had not expected to be making this trip home alone. She thought _he_ would be with her. She thought….

Sakura brushed the bangs from her eyes and looked around wistfully. _She didn't know what she thought. _It was just one more thing on this trip she was wrong about.

Sakura toed the ground in frustration. When had things gone so wrong? She thought she'd planned it all out, taken everything into consideration when she asked him to come home with her. But he resisted. In fact, looking back, he resisted nearly everything.

Although, sometimes he seemed to enjoy their time together. The ramen, definitely. The blossoms…well, maybe. And at one point they seemed so close….

But even that changed in an instant.

Sakura looked to the far tree line one last time. There was no sign of movement. He didn't even show up for his customary goodbye.

It was strange. This time around, Katsuro seemed more like the elusive rogue from the temple than the sunny boy she'd spent a whole summer with. And after the tumultuous turn-of-events from her assignment, it was hard to keep out the nagging doubts. Was it really him that had changed? Or had she only seen what she wanted, just like the rest of this damn mission?

Sakura's eyes drifted back to the bare twisted trunk beside her. She changed her mind: It wasn't at all like the perfect cherry tree in the temple painting. That was just a lovely memory from a harrowing time.

But this in front of her was real. It was just a tree. And he wasn't coming. She was sure of it.

She breathed deeply and squared her shoulders. She'd made so many mistakes. And she was ready to put it behind her. Sakura walked on over the petal-strewn ground and did not look back.

Maybe she'd see him on her next mission. But then again, maybe not. A shadow of doubt fell across everything now. The only thing she was certain was that she was ready to be in Konoha again, where everything made sense.

When she reached the junction of roads, Sakura skipped her usual meandering byway for the main trade road. It was the one that would get her home the quickest.

* * *

_Damn. Everything ached._

He rubbed a callused hand over his face and looked around. The hillside was still as the tomb.

Dropping his hand, a fingernail snagged his pant leg. He chewed down the nail distractedly.

He couldn't take much more of this. Something had to give. It was nearly mid-day. _He_ should have at least been up and moving by now—

Leaves exploded from the hillside in a fury of movement. _"Shit!"_

In stumbling whirl, the boy snapped on his cloak muttering "so late" and "can't believe it." Then he tore off down the bank.

The man on the branch chuckled. _Finally._ He stood and stretched his stiff legs.

But he was in no rush. He wouldn't loose the damn kid this time. The boy was in such a state he didn't even cover his tracks. There was a clear trail through the leaves. The man snickered again.

He'd tried every trick he knew to flush the kid out. But somehow they'd all failed. Either the kid was really good or really lucky. And he couldn't decide which one…. He pitched off the branch, following the track of disturbed leaves.

Like a shadow, the man moved in tandem with the boy. Through the trees, across the hillside and back to the town.

At midday, the village was coming to life. And the kid bounced around like he'd lost something. From broad avenues to sleepy residential lanes, nothing escaped his notice.

_Well, almost nothing._

The man positioned himself on the roof ledge a far building, chewed on another fingernail and watched. He was fairly certain the kid was looking for someone. But why?

_Maybe it was a deal gone sour…maybe he'd lost some money?_

Whatever it was, the kid was panicked. He was barely keeping himself concealed, and for self-righteous shinobis, that always spoke volumes about their state of mind.

The kid veered off suddenly down a narrow lane. The man spit out a broken bit of nail and leapt from his perch to follow him.

They moved through maze of residential streets. The kid must have been lost, because he would curse then pivot down another lane. Smiling meanly, the man hung way in case the boy turned to back suddenly.

_This was much more entertaining than the usual riff-raff he was assigned to track. Even if it was such a pain in the ass finding him._

Laughter rippled up from a courtyard. The kid stopped, looking sharply for the sound.

_Things are finally starting to get interesting…._

Across the lane was a bustling house. The second-story window had been thrown open and white curtains billowed out. Pleasant chattering drifted up, followed by a peal of feminine laughter. The kid watched intently for the source of the sound.

_Ah…. He's after a girl…._

The curtain shifted. Two girls were in the room, rolling up bedding and giggling.

But before the man could get a good look, play a quick guessing-game over which girl was his, the kid suddenly took off again.

Mildly surprised, the man followed. The kid hurtled over several more neighborhoods, still looking but never stopping, until he came to the south wall. The man hung far back, expecting the kid to turn. But he never did.

Instead, the boy drew his cloak closed, leapt high and disappeared over the wall.

The man frowned…and followed him.

They traipsed down backroads and byways, passing scores farmers and peddlers. But the kid never stopped. And the man had a good guess why.

Most of the men he followed were out after money. Either delivering it, retrieving it or stealing it. And though it might involve goods or personal intrigue, money was always at the source.

But leave it to a teenager to chase after a girl. _That was a new one, even for him._

The kid was so preoccupied with the road, he never once looked to his surroundings. The man was trained in stealth just to deal with nins like him, but it was wasted here: The damn kid didn't care who saw him.

He decided it was probably just dumb luck that the boy had managed to evade him. Because the kid certainly didn't act like any shinobi he'd ever seen.

_This damn assignment had turned out to a real pain in the ass._

They hit a junction of trade roads, and the kid stopped on a broad branch. Behind him, higher up in the canopy, the man noiselessly stopped too.

It was a good vantage point. They'd probably wait it out here. The man squatted on the limb and ran a finger over a jagged thumbnail. But before he could chew it off, the kid was moving again.

The man shook his head and set off too. His thin shadow streaked over the branches as they followed had to be a farmer's cart path.

_Where in the hell were they?_

He knew where the kid was expected to be next…and it wasn't here.

_Who could he be meeting out here in the middle of nowhere—_

The boy stopped suddenly a few limbs ahead. He adjusted the hood over his head, drew the cloak close around his neck and squatted down. The man carefully stopped too, easing his weight slowly onto the branch to not make a sound.

Beyond them, farmlands stretched in vast swaths. There were a few houses at a distance and the man could make out two bodies bent at work in the fields.

A jerky movement flickered much closer. The man shifted his weight to get a better view.

Just beyond the treeline, a child was playing in a cleared field.

The man didn't move, he barely even breathed. The kid could go no further without being seen. He would surely turn around and go back—

The kid dropped off the branch, landed on the ground in a controlled squat and slowly walked toward the child. His cloak rippled out behind him.

Astonished, the man lurched forward a few limbs for a better look. The air smelled faintly heated, as if someone had just used a jutsu. But he was too surprised to care.

_What the hell was going on? Was this who he was looking for? A child?_

To his astonishment, instead of being terrified, the child popped up from her spot and ran to the kid. Small arms wrapped around the boy's waist. He knelt and spoke. His hood nodded. After a few minutes, Katsuro stood and patted the girl on the head. He waved, then leapt to off to the trees in another direction.

_That's it? All this…for a damn child?_

The man was ridiculously irritated. Nothing on this assignment had gone as he had planned. Without thinking, he brought the jagged thumbnail to his lip, ready to rip the damn thing off—

When the girl turned...and stared directly up at him.

He froze. The offending nail just grazed his lip. The girl continued to look straight at him.

He slowly brought his hand down.

_Surely she couldn't…. That would be impossible…._

The girl watched him with wide, inquisitive eyes.

_Something must be wrong…._

But when he looked down at his body, he saw nothing but the big branch beneath him. He breathed a ragged sigh of relief. There was his shadow of course — the one flaw in his perfect technique — but the rest of his body was still completely transparent.

Yet she continued looking at him.

He shrugged it off. A fluke. A weird girl on an irritating mission. But when he hopped to another branch, her eyes followed him.

He went cold.

_What the hell…._

He held out a hand, checking again that his technique was working. Yep, still completely see through. And his shadow was so pale and distorted there was no way she could see it unless she was—

He looked hard at the girl. She smiled at him. His eyebrow hitched up with his swirling thoughts.

_If she really could see him…then she was a very special child._

The man slowly raised his hand and waved. She waved merrily back. A slow smile crept up his face.

_Hmmm…. She was very special indeed. _

He hopped to another branch and this time waved very slightly, just wiggling his fingers. She mimicked the action. He tried a few more tests, hopping to different branches and holding up two or three fingers. Each time, she did the same.

She was a chakra sensor. Very useful and _very_ rare. Any number of people would pay highly for her. He gave her one last wave, which she matched perfectly, then launched off after Katsuro.

He watched his surroundings carefully so he could repeat it. He may not have exactly fulfilled his mission, but he had information of greater value to offer…. The man smiled smugly and pushed off the branch. Only his grey shadow streaked beneath him.

* * *

"You look quite happy for someone who has failed his task."

Itachi frowned at the man standing across from him. The Rain tracker may act coy, but if he couldn't manage a simple surveillance, then that disappearing act was wasted on him.

But the tracker smiled smugly in spite of Itachi's thunderous glare. He ran a finger over his smooth thumbnail.

"No, I didn't find out what he was doing, but your boy has not wasted his time. One of his contacts is a girl, a child really, and she has a _very_ unique and _highly desirable_ talent."

The tracker pretended to inspect his fingernails while he chose his next words. "Of course…there are several parties who might be interested in a chakra sensor. One who's nature is so strong she even sensed me. One who is still so young she could molded to serve any cause set before her."

The tracker flicked a glance at Itachi. The Uchiha looked incredulous.

"In fact, a client from Sound just offered me an extra…_300_ ryo for information about exceptional children. So I could easily take my knowledge to him. But I am—"

"And that's it? This is all the information you've brought me? About some _child_—"

"Not just any child." The man turned serious and stepped forward. "A chakra sensor."

Itachi processed the words, then sighed. "You saw her and are certain of this skill."

The tracker's words were slow and deliberate. "_She_ saw _me_."

Itachi shrugged. "Not an unusual skill. Many clans have—"

The man dropped his hands to the side and stopped all movement. The light around him shifted. Then he disappeared.

"She recognized my chakra signature from the ground, and she—"

"_I_ can recognize your signature. You're standing right in front of me." Itachi frowned at the empty spot. "You've just raised your arm."

Slowly the tracker faded back into the room. His arm was raised. But he was holding up three fingers. His eyes were fixed on Itachi's.

"She repeated my movements. Down to the finest detail."

"I see." Itachi said slowly, now seriously mulling the implications.

"The child would be an admirable asset to any group, village or nation." The tracker returned to his previous calculated nonchalance. "And I just happen to know where she is."

Itachi nodded. He retrieved a scroll from behind the desk, opened it and, in a few short moves, two small sacks appeared in a circle on the scroll.

Itachi pushed forward the first pouch. "300 for the information."

The tracker lifted an eyebrow, unimpressed. He didn't move to take the money.

Itachi put his hand on the second pouch but didn't push it forward. "An extra 300 for your secrecy…which you may claim when we fetch the child."

The tracker waited, thought it over, then quietly pocketed the first pouch.

Business concluded, Itachi unfurled the map across the table. The tracker traced out Katsuro's routes and the location of the girl.

Itachi shook his head, puzzling aloud over how far south it was. So close to the Fire Country. It made no sense. But the tracker just shrugged.

"He did seem to be looking for someone else. A girlie, if I had to take a guess." Itachi looked up in surprise. The tracker snorted. "He checked out some local girls on the way out of town."

Itachi returned to the map. But the tracker, feeling flush with the payment weighing down his pocket, reflected that in the end this job had turned out no different from the rest.

"Yeah, love or money. That's always the way it is." He stretched his back while he professed his expert opinion. "I'd bet your boy's got a girlie on the side. The girlie takes care of the child. But when your boy sees a chance to make some money off the chakra sensor, he keeps it hidden from you."

The tracker nodded to himself and ran a finger over his smooth nails. With nothing left to chew off, he dropped his hand to his pocket, satisfied instead with the merry tinkle of shifting coins.

"Yep, these things always turn out the same," he declared smugly.

Seeing that the man's usefulness was at an end, Itachi dismissed him.

* * *

"Katsuro. _Katsuro!"_

At length, a mop of brown hair poked through canvas flap of the tent.

"Yeah?"

The old captain raised an eyebrow at the boy's disrespect, but let it slide. "Please bring me the Kiri headband. From your last mission."

"Uh…. Hai, senpai."

Minutes later he returned to the captain's tent, headband in hand.

The older man was busy giving instructions to another nin. Katsuro must have missed his presence before. The man flashed Katsuro a bright, disarming smile.

_Wei._

A shinobi assassin from Rain. The man's easygoing air hid his true skills: He was a ruthless killer. Wei specialized in working his way into his target's confidence, then snuffing them out at an opportune moment.

Katsuro didn't smile back. He didn't need to be in anyone's confidence. He held out the black headband without a word.

"Thanks," Wei said and shoved the band into his back pocket. Raking fingers through his choppy black hair, he shot another smile at the kid. But his eyes traveled up and down Katsuro's frame, quickly summing up the growing boy's visible strengths and weaknesses.

Katsuro squirmed inwardly. He hated feeling like he was being sized up. By anyone. Especially by men who took such pleasure in setting up their kill.

"On your waist," Katsuro blurted suddenly to break the man's appraisal.

"Eh…what?"

"Wear it on your waist." He crooked a finger at the man's belt loop. "That's where I had it. Tied and hanging down."

The man looked at Katsuro then to his belt before finally understanding what he meant. "Oh. Uh, yeah…sure, kid."

Katsuro frowned at his dismissive tone. But the old captain misinterpreted it.

"Look alive, Katsuro, You've been dragging since your last assignment."

Katsuro rubbed the back of his neck, embarrassed. Wei flashed him a sympathetic smile; he ignored it.

But the captain only laughed at the boy's discomposure. "Thanks Katsuro. That's all."

Katsuro nodded and turned to go, but not before sweeping a last glance over Wei. Dressed all in black, Kiri headband…. Katsuro wondered briefly if the man was picking up the mission where he left off….

But he stifled the thought. It wasn't his problem to worry about. Ignoring Wei's bland smile, he ducked out of the tent.

The captain retrieved his map from a mess of scrolls. "So, as I was saying—"

Wei dropped his smiling facade. "Look that kid may have fun playing dress up, but for real shinobi it's degrading to—"

"I know, I know," the captain sighed. "But you're the best one suited to this."

"I'm tired of doing these jobs. I haven't seen any action for months," Wei grumbled. "And none of it makes sense. You send me everywhere. Smiling and fawning. But you never send me back for the closure. Instead he," Wei thumbed angrily at the door, "Itachi's _errand boy_, trots in with money or scrolls. Like we're running a damned business!"

The captain raised a hand to calm him, but Wei was still fuming.

"It's pointless! We're going nowhere! And," his voice dropped to an angry whisper, "_and_ we're doing it all on orders of some ex-Leaf nin. Who doesn't know a thing about what we've been through—"

"Listen to me," the captain said firmly. "I know your frustrated, but we've got to see this through. I've told you before, this is a shell game. And we all have our part to play."

Wei ripped the headband out of his pocket and shook it angrily. "If the kid was good enough to get the scroll, why not use him now? Why waste my time?"

The captain stood. Forced patience smoothed his expression. "You are the only one who can swing this without a hitch. You're espionage skills are second to none. And that's what we need right now: Someone who can control the outcome of the situation. The part you have to play is that of negotiator. And I'm relying on you. There's no one else I trust to pull it off."

Wei rolled his eyes at the obvious flattery. But it worked. He huffed and sullenly waited for the captain to continue his briefing.

"So this job is no different than the others, in essentials…."

He unfurled a small, weathered map across the table. Scattered across it, through every country, were X's marking finished jobs. But a meandering trail of red dots ran through the territories. The captain pointed to a dot near the merchant village.

"On the surface, you will be a Kiri nin purchasing bulk metals through your network of contacts. Disguised as you, Katsuro has already secured your introduction by buying off a clan to vouch for you and set up this meeting. That get's you to the table. But _you_ have to negotiate the terms of the deal.

"So your job is to arrange the shipment and get them to accept your payment at the drop off point. Not any earlier. We can put out some earnest money. But promise them the rest when it arrives. Tell them you'll be there to retrieve it. Tell them anything they want to hear. Just get that shipment on the move."

Wei nodded like he'd heard it all before.

"Like I said, it's essentially the same job you've run before. Different disguises, different clans and towns, but it's still the same game."

"Yeah, yeah. Do my part, don't ask questions." Wei shook his head ruefully. "You say there's no one else who can do this, yet you keep me in the dark. You've got me running around like that boy. Never knowing what or why…. I must not be _that_ crucial if I'm treated the same as him…."

He flicked his eyes to the captain and watched for a response.

The captain sighed and pressed a finger to his greying temple. Then, coming to some decision, he leaned out over the map and leveled his gaze at the shinobi.

"Alright. You want the bigger picture? Here it is: Once the shipment is on the road, another squad will be sent to ambush the delivery. So we end up with the goods and still keep our money. Then, Kiri will be framed as the source of the deal. Which, of course, they will deny. So while the large nations are busy pointing fingers, you will don another nin disguise and close out another deal. Creating more confusion among the big nations."

Understanding lit Wei's black eyes. "Ahh…"

The captain nodded. "And this single job sets it all in motion. It's the biggest one yet, so it's sure to gain some notice. Which is what we want because…."

Wei filled in. "The fallout will cover our movements."

The captain nodded. "Now do you understand why your role is so important. I'm relying on _you_ to set this deal in motion."

An arrogant smile broke across Wei's face. _They couldn't do without him. He wasn't just important…. He was essential! There was no one else who—_

But the captains harsh whisper interrupted his self-lauding.

"Listen, these assignments may be handed down from an outsider, but _you_ know what's at stake here…. _You_ came up under Yahiko. You're still loyal to the old cause, I know you are." The captain paced behind his desk. "If we can secure this shipment," he pounded his fist into his palm, "then everything else will fall into place."

The older man stopped and turned back to the shinobi, pinning him with a determined look. "And if we can pull this off, then we'll be heading home by summer's end."

Wei blinked once. As most shinobi from the nearly-obliterated Rain territory, the dreams of his youth had long ago dimmed. He still carried out the orders that trickled down from the old rebel leaders simply because he'd never done anything else.

But there was a fire in the captain's eyes Wei hadn't seen in years. It was inspiring. It made him remember what he was fighting for.

"Do you understand what I'm saying? If we can pull this off, then we'll _have a home_ to return to. So follow your orders. I'm relying on you to bring it all together. Everything's riding on this—"

"Don't worry," Wei said, gripping the headband tightly. "I won't fail."

* * *

Itachi sat back and rubbed his eyes. Even in the low light, the maps and scrolls were beginning to blur together.

Now most of his nights in camp were spent at work. He plotted courses, worked out every variable. He had to make sure their next steps were immaculate.

In the coming months they would collect on deals they'd been cultivating for years. The first job, ambushing the largest metal shipment to pass through the territories in recent memory, was sure to crash like a stone in still water. It's ripples would be felt far and wide.

The nations would suspect each other. Which was the goal. Their group was was taking in a haul that only a shinobi village could use. And that much metal meant the nation must be arming themselves…preparing for war.

Well, they were. They just didn't realize it yet.

Itachi stifled a yawn and flexed his hand.

He'd carefully orchestrated each job, making the deals look like they were originating from various nations. He chose crucial locations and played off age-old rivalries. And he'd carefully covered their tracks

In the coming months, while the other nations were blaming each other and chasing shadows, they'd collect on their deals. There was a problem of some holdout towns, but he'd let a handful of men sweep through at the end, make them offers of protection or take their goods. He'd use them to stoke the fires of fear.

Then the big nations, certain that one was preparing for war and using the territories to mask their preparations, would focus their energy on each other. They would infiltrate and attack, weakening themselves. And all Itachi had to do was sit back and watch.

His mouth curved up in a slow smile.

Itachi pushed away from the desk and eased back into his chair.

Of course, they would need to cut loose most of the thugs they'd used up until now. After this, they'd rely on a smaller, smarter groups. Men with more training or a keen sense of stealth. And the focus would no longer be stealing goods, but chipping away at the infrastructure of the nations.

He had even been thinking of giving Katsuro his own squad. But now….

Itachi's expression darkened.

It burned him to think the the boy had been keeping secrets. Even if it was just an infatuation with a local girl. Stealing away for a tryst was dangerous behavior. He never would never have thought it of Katsuro. The boy had always been so cautious about everything.

Didn't he know that an emotional attachment could get him killed? _Hadn't he already been taught that lesson?_

It still didn't answer how he'd come across a chakra sensor, of all things. Perhaps the girl was connected to the child. A minder or a sister. Or maybe the child had even sensed him, seeking him out. There were a thousand variables, but they all led to the same conclusion: Katsuro could not have any ties. Not when he was the—

The air shifted and turned heavy. In the next instant a dark figure materialized out of a silent swirl in front of the table. A black-cloaked man appeared. He wore a disturbing mask the shape of a large orange whorl, with a single hole over his left eye.

_Madara_. Itachi sullenly watched the apparition take form, then bent back to his work without even a greeting.

"Ah, Itachi, you shouldn't work so hard," a nasal voice whined behind the mask. "I'm sure you have it all under control."

"Don't use that act with me, _Tobi_. Save it for that fool Deidara."

Madara gave a gravelly chuckle, relaxing his voice to its natural low. He stepped forward to look over a few of the documents.

"I knew you would take care of this. You were the only one I could trust. Konoha's training _is_ second to none."

Itachi kept his focus on his work, pretending to study a large map.

Madara moved again. The lantern at the edge of the desk flickered.

"As busy as all this looks — and I'm _sure_ it is — make certain it can run without you. You may be needed for another procurement before all this," he waved his hand lazily over the table, "is resolved."

"I have taken every precaution," Itachi said in a monotone. "Nothing will go wrong."

"Right or wrong…." Madara shrugged. "This is just to fill the time. But do not forget what your real goal is. The only reason you can spend your time on Pein's frivolity is because you've already caught your prize."

Madara leaned out across the table and placed a hand atop the map, demanding Itachi's attention.

"And because you are that much better than the rest, that much more is expected of you. I am relying on _you_."

Itachi slowly lifted his gaze to meet Madara's. A blood-red sharingan swirled behind the mask. Itachi banked his anger and looked straight up into the red eye, unimpressed.

"Tell me…. Do you give these pep talks to the rest of the Akatsuki members? Or do you save this pleasure for me alone?"

Madara chuckled and stepped back. His voice lightened. "You know, you need to begin his conditioning—"

"I've told you, it's too soon," Itachi said crisply. "He's got just enough control to draw out power against his opponents. But if I were to push him…the kyuubi would easily overpower him. He needs more time."

Itachi pushed back a stack of scrolls. "And if that were to happen, no amount of planning could cover our tracks," he warned. "It would be like detonating a bomb. Then Konoha would be the least of our concerns. Every nation would know we had the nine-tails jinchuriki. And that is assuming he survived it."

"Still," Madara's voice was deceptively pleasant. "He needs to be trained to respond to the sharingan…. And finding a sharingan user who is a match is quite rare. So I wouldn't be surprised if you weren't able to—"

Itachi slammed a hand down on the desk. "I am! I've told you already. My sharingan is _the one_. There has not been another more powerful user since you and your brother. You said so yourself."

Madara looked at him long and hard.

"Yes. So I have."

In the silence, Itachi took a steadying breath and made a show of returning to his work.

"And how is young Sasuke progressing," Madara asked casually. "He has activated his sharingan by now, has he not?"

"Yes. But he is weak. He's shown no extraordinary talent. I don't expect much from him."

Madara quietly weighed Itachi's words. "Well…. perhaps Sasuke needs time as well. After all, his sharingan will not come to full power until he reaches maturity."

"Are we finished here?" Itachi snapped. "Because if all of this is going to come to pass, I need to get back to work."

Madara's voice returned to it's false lightness. "Yes, I just came by to check in. Make sure Pein wasn't overloading you. Don't want you loosing sight of the real goal."

"Don't worry." Itachi fixed both his eyes on Madara's single one. "I never have."

* * *

The lanky teen wiped his nose on the back of his hand.

"Hey Pa! You got that order up?"

From the back of the steaming, cramped kitchen, an old man grunted. He splashed water into tea cups and slapped bowls on a tray. From rattling pots he ladled out a variety of gray, overcooked foods, then slid the dripping mess through the slotted window.

The son glanced over it and pushed it back. "You forgot the tea biscuits."

Another grunt. Drying his hands on the smudged apron, the man scooped out a handful of pasty crackers. He threw them on the tray, shoved the tray through the window and slapped down the dishes for the next order.

A last nose wipe and the kid was bumping the tray through the narrow kitchen door.

The shabby noodle shop was as forgettable as everything else in the little town scraped out of the dirt between a confluence of trade roads. Buildings sprouted like weeds, and customers soon followed. And if the merchants, travelers or other shady characters were far enough into the thicket of buildings to find this dive, then they valued their privacy. The kid took orders, delivered food, and left the customers alone.

So when an elegant traveler took his seat next to a black-clad man in the darkest corner of the room, no one even took notice.

The teen returned with their tray, and the whispered conversation dried up. He laid out the bowls, pausing for a wet sniffle. But when he set out the tea cups, a glint of silver caught his eye. A shinobi headband fell noticeably across one man's lap.

The teen's eye's widened. His movements slowed. He set down the cups and looked again. It was hard to make out in the dim light, but there were faint dashes of the Mist insignia.

_Huh, a real shinobi. _He'd always wondered if any came through here. Not that he would know. Unless they wore their bands it would be hard to—

The kid looked up to find black eyes boring into his.

"I asked for sake," the black-clad shinobi ground out, never blinking.

The teen flushed. "Y-yes, sir." He snatched up the tray and hurried back to the kitchen.

The shinobi flicked his gaze across the table. The other man was adjusting the long sleeves of his fine silk robes and pretending not to have noticed the headband.

Smiling inwardly, Wei tucked the headband back into his pocket. _Well, at least that's taken care of._

"As I was saying," the elegant man continued, suddenly anxious to talk business. "I just happen to have a great deal of contacts who trade in metals and weaponry. One clan in particular is still sitting on their supply from the spring market. I would be happy to facilitate a meeting—"

"No, my…ah…client would prefer to remain anonymous in this transaction. I have the name of another diplomat, and was told he may broker a deal for us. He came highly recommended as someone who was able to handle deals of this _delicate_ nature. Do you know of this man?"

Wei slipped out a scroll on the table and waited for the light of recognition in the other man's eyes.

"Why, yes, I most certainly do! In fact, I recently—"

"Good," Wei said, slipping the scroll back to his lap. "I had been making some contacts before, and his name came up as someone who might be able to help. But I was not able to make a connection with him. I was hoping you could help..."

"Ahh, I think I had heard some mention of that…."

Just then, the teen came back with the sake. He clattered the cups down and attempted to pour with shaking hands. Wei snatched the pitcher before the kid spilled half of it on the table.

"Go."

The teen retreated to the kitchen where he slumped against the door for a moment before wiping his nose and grabbing another customer's tray.

Wei gulped down the awful sake to buy him some time. From over the edge of his cup, he watched the man.

Everything was going to plan. Wei himself had spread the gossip about a buyer, hoping to get names of potential contacts and covering his own tracks with hearsay. And it worked. These two men's names came up again and again.

The man before him, their contact, was well connected within the territories. He prided himself on his inside knowledge. Their target, a not-quite-top man for a middle-sized clan, was willing to take risks for deals with a high yield of money or notice. And this deal brought both. These men were the perfect candidates.

It was laborious work, orchestrating each player. But by going through these puppet men, their group could maintain their secrecy and ensure success.

And it was Wei's job to make these men feel special…not manipulated. So he carefully let the conversation unfold, letting the contact lead the way. But he was controlling it all along.

It really was like a shell game.

And this sake was _really_ awful.

"So you do know the man," Wei said, plastering on a relieved smile. "They said you were the right one to come to."

"I'm honored to be of service."

The man smiled and smoothed back his already smooth hair, and Wei knew he was on board.

"And this clan you mentioned, with their supply of metals, how…big is it?" Wei manufactured a nervous look.

Now it was the contact's turn to reassure.

He flashed a curving smile. "Oh quite large. Large enough to supply one of the territories. Or even, say, a shinobi village."

Wei nodded back. _Good. The clan we've already picked. _

"Good, you understand the situation perfectly."

_Now to lay the finishing touches…._

"This is where your expertise in these matters is a necessity," Wei said, dropping his voice a notch. "We have some special requirements. And I need you to represent us…to smooth out any wrinkles and make sure these requirements are met. Otherwise we won't be able to…. You see, because of the nature of…."

Wei glanced around the room, leaned forward and lowered his voice even more. It was a calculated move to draw the man in. It worked. The man's dark eyes glittered in anticipation.

"My orders are to exchange the money for goods at the same time, with no trace of the exchange. Above all, we do not want to attract the attention of any _other_ large nations." Wei lingered on the last words. The man nodded knowingly.

"So we have chosen a spot on the northern trade road, far from prying eyes. And we are prepared to pay for the clan's secrecy in the matter. When you arrange the meeting with your man, I will deliver enough money to prove my…er…_client's_ interest. Is this acceptable?"

The man nodded heartily. He clarified some small details, then cleared his throat delicately. "And, in case he asks, what are the terms…. What may I tell him you are prepared to offer…?"

Wei looked hard at the man, letting his guise drop for a moment.

"Tell him money is of no matter. This deal has to go through. Everything is depending on it."

The shinobi rose to leave, but the man, feeling the promise of an excellent deal certain to bring him money and notice, sought to stamp out any competition.

"You should know, there is another village vying for that man's attention."

Wei frowned and sat back down.

"His hired guard is supposed to be back with an offer. The man was hoping it would be an alliance or some choice trade agreement. But I tend to think—"

"And where is this shinobi from?"

"Konoha. I only mean to inform you so you can have the advantage, if you wish. Deliver your offer ahead of theirs and you will remain unnoticed." The man smoothed his silks. "I will make sure he does not find anything of value in whatever they have to offer."

Wei thought about this for a moment. He thumbed the scroll's tassel in his pocket. They had planned too much to back out now. Best to let the meeting stand, then let the target refuse. Konoha would be none the wiser.

"Fine. I will be there ahead of his message."

"Her," the man said with a smooth smile. "The guard is a kunoichi."

Wei shrugged. They spoke a few minutes more, arranging meeting times, then he left alone.

The other man, feeling the fullness of a successful deal, flicked his fingers to order more tea. The teen obliged, this time pouring with a much steadier hand.

* * *

The guffawing men at the campfire lowered their voices. Wei paused, chopsticks halfway to his mouth. He knew before he turned what their silence meant: The Uchiha was coming.

Itachi strode through the center of camp, speaking quietly with the old captain. The captain pointed toward the fire; Wei put down his food.

With just a tilt of his chin, Itachi summoned him. Wei nodded and fell into step just as the captain peeled off to subdue some rowdy new recruits.

They walked away from the campfire, past silent tents towards the blue-black woods.

"Everything go according to plan?"

"Hai, Itachi-sama."

"And they are likely to meet our terms?

"The contact seemed to think so. I meet with him tomorrow for confirmation."

They reached the last line of tents. Itachi looked up at the branches, preparing to leave.

"Good. Inform me immediately upon your return."

"He did tell me that another village has been making an appearance lately." Wei slanted a look at Itachi, just to see his reaction. "Konoha…."

For the barest instant Itachi's body went rigid. If Wei had blinked he would have missed it. Then it was gone. Wei smirked inwardly.

Itachi turned and pinned the shinobi with a look that silently demanded more. Wei's petulance evaporated.

"There was a Konoha nin, hired as a guard, who is to be returning with an offer of some kind. Trade or alliance. I told him to let the interaction stand, I will just deliver ours ahead of hers, that way—"

"Hers?"

"Yeah, a kunoichi. Anyway, I've just pushed up our meeting to make sure he's locked in before she gets there. Then he can politely refuse. The contact is the one who told me. And he's made himself a tidy profit just making sure there are no problems."

Itachi nodded and turned back to the woods. Thinking he was dismissed, Wei moved to go. But Itachi's sudden command startled him.

"Find out who it is."

Wei looked back in surprise. Itachi hadn't moved. Just the tendrils of hair at his neck shivered. Wei watched him, expecting something more. But apparently that was it. The Uchiha launched just as suddenly to the trees. Only the soft rustle of his cloak whispered through the air behind him.

Wei shrugged. He didn't think it mattered, but he'd find out what he could. Maybe the guy was still jealous of his old comrades.

_Maybe it was an old girlfriend…._

Wei snickered. He'd like to meet someone who could rattle the Uchiha. Smiling in the darkness, Wei turned and tromped noisily through the campsite to his waiting dinner.

* * *

Itachi looked up from the map, anticipating the chakra signature that was approaching the tent.

"Enter."

Wei ducked through the flap. Escalated voices carried in with him. Itachi frowned.

"Some of the new recruits," Wei said, thumbing at the door. "They seem to be knocking heads lately. Anyway, the meeting is confirmed. I will deliver the earnest money this weekend." Itachi nodded and began jotting down notes as Wei spoke. "The contact will make the proposition to the diplomat, and he will arrange the sale and delivery. Everything is falling into place—"

Another round of jeers echoed outside. It sounded very much like a fight was going to break out, if it hadn't already.

Wei glanced nervously at the door. Some of those men may have been on his squads. He didn't want to catch hell for their squabbles.

"Uh…. Maybe I should go check on that…."

Itachi moved from the scrolls to the map, still making notations. He didn't look up.

The voices outside were growing in their ferocity. Wei raked a hand through his choppy black hair. Dismissed or not, he had to find out what the hell was going on. Besides, he'd already told the Uchiha everything he knew.

Vicious taunts were followed by grunts of active fighting. He had to stop it before it turned into a riot. Wei tugged back the flap and ducked out of the door—

Itachi rose to stop him. "Wait! What of the Konoha nin?"

"Eh," Wei said without turning back, "it wasn't anything. Just a girl. Pink hair. You probably didn't even know her…." Then he was out the door.

Itachi stared that the flapping canvas. A rush of images crashed down on him. But out of the mess, another picture was slowly coming together….

Konoha.

Just a girl.

Pink hair.

…_Eh, I think he was just chasing a girl…._

Itachi's eyes went wide with rage. His hands closed in angry fists, snapping the thin brush he was holding.

_Katsuro…._

Outside, a bone-shattering crack filled the air. Cheers filtered through the fluttering flap. The captain's voice boomed suddenly, and then it was all over. The men dispersed. The tent door slowly stilled and silence returned.

But Itachi had not moved.

He stared without seeing, working over the new information. His mouth had thinned to a pale line. And his cheeks were flushed with anger.

That the boy could betray him…. He ground his teeth together. It riled him so. He nearly flew out of the tent to find him and demand an explanation. Or beat him to a bloody pulp.

It had to be the girl they'd caught before. The pink-haired kunoichi. There was no other explanation. Pink hair was quite uncommon. And she had proved her mettle as a Konoha nin. But what was she doing out here….

Itachi brutally swiped his arm over the desk, scattering scrolls and broken pieces of brush. Flattening out the map, he scanned the towns that were hold outs. The ones that had proved impermeable last summer.

Then he traced out Katsuro's assignments….

Many were in the vicinity. Not all…but….

Enough.

Itachi thought for a stab of a second that Katsuro had made contact with Konoha. That he was planning to defect back. But that couldn't be the case. There were no signs that he was unhappy, or that he was preparing to make a break. Even though he had been moping the past few weeks….

He wiped a hand over his mouth, recalling the words of the tracker.

_"I'd bet your boy's got a girlie on the side."_

Dammit. Everything was clear now.

Katsuro was infatuated with the damn girl and following her from town to town. And the chakra sensor, so close to the Fire Country border…. That's how he found the child too. He was down there, with _her_.

How dangerous. And stupid. Chasing after a girl, a _Konoha kunoichi _of all people, put everything at risk. Fresh anger swelled in his chest.

He should have killed that damn girl when he had the chance.

Itachi sank back into the seat. He propped an elbow on the chair and rubbed his fingers at his temple.

_This presented a problem. _

If he confronted him about the girl, Katsuro could rebel in a fit of pique. And it was simply too dangerous to hunt her down in Konoha.

He narrowed his eyes, remembering Katsuro's attachment to the girl. He intended to sever that bond, once and for all. But first he needed to find out how deep the deception ran. Did he know about Konoha's actions or was he only interested in her?

_If Katsuro had been keeping secrets, then he wanted to uncover them all._

Itachi found another brush and picked up a scroll off the mat.

He paused, brush poised over the blank page, and drew a deep, calming breath. He had the element of surprise, so he held the advantage. He just needed to take the right steps.

Then he set brush to paper, writing down new orders in long, slashing strokes.

* * *

Katsuro drug a cloth down the flat edge of the kunai. It was the last one. And he'd already polished it twice.

The smooth blade caught the light and gleamed like quicksilver in his hand. Katsuro sighed…then he pitched it on the pile with the other shining kunai.

He flopped back on the ground, stretched out and stared up at the sunlit green canopy. He seemed to be endlessly waiting these days. The things he loved about his life had somehow lost their sparkle. They paled in comparison to her….

He had trudged around the first few days after returning to camp. He felt miserable. He'd missed her. And he had to wait three long weeks until he could see her again. For the first time, the monotony of his life grated on him. And he felt bad about that, too.

He felt bad about all of it.

But when people started to comment on his mood, he knew he had to at least act like he felt normal.

Not that she was slipping through his every waking thought.

Not that he was imagining disappearing from camp, sneaking through the Fire country's great woods and finding a large branch where he could peer over the wall. Where he could sit and wait, hoping for a glimpse of her pink hair…her smiling face….

Not that he was wishing, urging, begging time to move faster.

He sighed again and slanted his gaze at the pile of kunai. Even that was a dead giveaway of his preoccupation. His weapons had never looked better. Yet he'd never cared less about them.

There was another problem looming on the horizon, though. And the time was fast approaching when he would have to deal with it. Otherwise he'd miss her this time too.

Katsuro frustratedly jerked his gaze back to the trees. To think he'd been so out of his mind, so stupid and exhausted and careless that he'd missed that one item…that one crucial detail….

He wasn't _exactly_ sure where Sakura was going to be. _Exactly_.

_Stupid, stupid, stupid._ Katsuro rubbed a hand over his eyes.

He'd wracked his brains, but it just wouldn't come to him. It was lost in the memories of the night, behind a haze of angry red chakra.

It didn't matter. Yet. But it would. And all he could hope was that it would come to him before he ran out of time.

If not, he'd probably wind up stationing himself at the edge of the main road into Fire and just wait for her. An inelegant solution, fraught with problems. But he clung to it stubbornly. He'd see her. One way or another.

He sighed again, blinked up at the dappled canopy and wished that time would move faster.

The days slipped by no faster or slower than any others. After what felt like an eternity of waiting, suddenly the prospect of seeing her was upon him.

He was plodding through camp for a routine meeting with Itachi when he realized that several other men were also moving in the direction. A little surge of hope went through him. Assignments!

The hope was dimmed by the knowledge that he wasn't entirely sure where she was going to be. Somewhere in the vicinity of the market town…but he just couldn't remember it. Maybe he'd try to score another assignment at the town and just try his luck—

Wei popped out on the path in front of him and shot back a toothy grin. Katsuro did not smile back.

He had some suspicions that it was Wei following him. There was nothing to confirm it, and nothing had come of it, but Wei would be likely to do it just to rattle him. Katsuro trusted him even less now. And he didn't think that could be possible.

Wei said nothing but was content to walk beside Katsuro and smile. He even whistled once. Katsuro's expression darkened.

Wei seemed to take special delight in being friendly to Katsuro, probably because the kid never accepted his easy manners. But Katsuro knew what the rest of the hired men didn't: Wei took vile pleasure in cutting down his opponents. Weaving elaborate stories, making false assurances. Smiling one moment, slitting their throat the next.

The last time Katsuro trusted that smile was years before on a covert mission. They inadvertently stumbled into a peddler's camp. Katsuro immediately told the old man they were lost and that they would find another place to sleep. The old man nodded and yawned.

With their tracks well covered, they could keep moving. Katsuro turned to see Wei's pleasant expression and Katsuro smiled back, mistakenly thinking older shinobi agreed with the tactic—

But in a blur of movement, Wei slung a hidden blade past Katsuro's ear. Behind him was the sickening wet thunk of blade plunging into flesh.

Wei's bland smile had never faltered.

Katsuro whipped around to see the man falling backwards. His eyes were frozen open. A slim kunai protruded grotesquely from his forehead. When his body crashed to the ground, Katsuro's mouth fell open: The man was already dead.

Wei walked around the horrified boy to retrieve his blade. He whistled while he wiped the bloody knife on the man's chest. The fabric immediately began smoking.

"Poison tip." Wei grinned. "When it hits the brain, it shuts 'em off like a light."

Katsuro didn't move. This was...wrong.

Wei killed the man just because he could. And he had used _him_ to do it.

"Thanks for blocking his view," Wei said with that same false smile as he walked back to Katsuro. But when he came even with him, Wei dropped the act. He pushed the kunai into Katusro's chest, making his shirt sizzle. "But don't _ever_ get in my way again. _Anyone_ is a threat to the mission."

Then just as quickly, the ruthless expression was gone. Wei's chilling smile returned. But Katsuro vowed to never be taken in like that again.

They finished the mission, and several more. But the memory still weighed on him. The old man didn't need to die. Katsuro had killed before — sometimes in self defense, sometimes as part of the mission — but he had never thought of himself as the kind of shinobi that would kill for spite. Just because he could. It was just…_wrong_.

"He was on a mission. He did what he had to do," the captain had shrugged when Katsuro related it during a debriefing. "We all do."

That made some sense. But Katsuro decided it didn't apply to all things, all situations, all _people_. He decided he wouldn't kill if he didn't have to. Only if he needed to survive.

He never told anyone of his personal resolve. Not even Itachi. But he stuck by it. And it was only strengthened after meeting Sakura.

_She_ was the kind of shinobi he wanted to be.

Not this whistling bastard beside him.

Katsuro ignored Wei and continued walking silently toward Itachi's tent.

More men were arriving ahead of them. Squad leaders and ex-Rain shinobi. Itachi was definitely handing out assignments.

Wei and his irritations were forgotten. This was it: Katsuro _had_ to remember what she'd said. It was now or never.

Katsuro ducked into the tent. Seven or eight men stood in the center, speaking quietly. They were soldiers and a few Rain shinobi. Wei took his place on the other side of the group, nodding to a few of the men. None offered Katsuro a greeting.

He didn't care. He stood apart from the group and studied the potential assignments. Spread out across the desk was a long line of scrolls. Some thin, some thick. Some with tassels, some without. On the other side of the desk Itachi silently made notes on his map as if no one else was in the tent.

Katsuro shoved his hands in his pockets to keep from fidgeting. Nothing looked familiar. There were a few from Rain, and a few from assignments he'd been on previously. He sighed inwardly. _Damn._

Itachi stood. The chatter stopped.

"From here on out, all missions will be coordinated. The closure of one will be closely followed by the closure of the next. So there can be no mistakes." His gaze was hard. The men nodded dutifully.

Only Katsuro kept his eyes on the scrolls.

Itachi didn't miss it. He decided to test his theory.

"We have had several towns and clan that have held-out. We think they've employed some special protection from one of the shinobi villages…." Itachi watched Katsuro as he spoke, but the boy never flinched. Itachi tapped his fingers on the red dots. Katsuro gave the map cursory glance, but nothing more.

The tracker was right. It was just about the girl. Now he knew how to proceed.

"Right. We'll close these out at the end. But for now, one mission depends on the next. So all must be executed exactly as they are assigned. No questions. No mistakes." He splayed his fingers over scrolls and launched into a litany of more detailed information.

Katsuro wriggled his fingers in the uncomfortable warmth of his pockets. _Dammit!_

Itachi rattled on and on, but still nothing jarred his memory. And when he began speaking to the men individually, assigning the missions and handing out scrolls, Katsuro knew his time was up.

Until Itachi mentioned the merchant village. He laid a hand briefly on a red-tasseled scroll, spoke a few clan names and some nearby towns, and was just lifting his fingers to reach for another scroll.

When finally something clicked. Katsuro's eyes widened a fraction.

The clan name or the town…. Sakura had mentioned one of them. He was sure of it.

Katsuro's pulse quickened. There was a chance she'd be there or nearby. He had to get that assignment. It couldn't go to anyone else.

"I'll take that one," Katsuro blurted out. Itachi stopped mid-sentence, his hand still hovering over the scroll. One eyebrow hitched up slowly. "I mean, I'm familiar with that area. It's near the merchant's village, and I've made a few deliveries there, so uh…. It would be an easy job…."

A strange expression quirked up the corners of Itachi's mouth. Something like a self-satisfied smile. It was almost as if he'd been expecting Katsuro to show a preference. Waiting for it, even….

Katsuro dismissed it. He didn't care, just as long as he got that mission—

"Yes, you have made a lot of runs this past summer haven't you. But I think, since you _are_ so fond of traveling," Itachi swiveled and reached for the last scroll in the line, "this one is better suited to you."

Katsuro blinked and robotically accepted the dull grey scroll. A few of the men snickered. Itachi continued giving orders.

The scroll was cold and heavy in his hand. Without even opening it, Katsuro knew this document had him delivering information near the old Rain country borders. It was a nuisance job and the farthest one away from camp. There was no way he could see her and get his job done. _Dammit…. _

Itachi droned on, and yet, the scroll still lingered there. And the assignments were steadily dwindling….

Then suddenly, it was over. "Please report back immediately upon completion of your mission. Dismissed."

The men filed out of the tent. Katsuro dawdled at the end, still watching the scroll. He and Wei were the last ones in the the room, when Itachi signaled for Wei to remain.

Katsuro had to go.

Passing through the door, he gave the tent flap a great shuddering ripple. Then he slowed.

Itachi's quiet voice floated through. "I need you to take care of a loose end for me…."

"Of course, anything for the cause…." The canvas muffled the rest of Wei's reply.

Beyond the fluttering edges of the fabric, Katsuro could still make out the red threads of the tassel spilling onto the table. But there was nothing else he could do now. The flap gently closed, and Katsuro trudged back toward camp.

* * *

In the sunlit Hokage's office, Sakura listened patiently to Tsunade's instructions and admonitions for her upcoming mission. Then, thankfully before she became too drowsy from warmth, Sakura was dismissed. She swung back the tower door and squinted up into the glorious afternoon. The sun streamed down, kid were playing in the streets, and hopefully she would see Katsuro soon. It was a good day.

Sakura shoved the mission scroll into her hip pack, but it caught on her medic kit before it was all the way in. Someone called from up the lane. She waved back, and the scroll was forgotten. But hanging out of her pack, the end of the scroll caught the sunlight. It swung jauntily as she moved, hopelessly tangling the brilliant red threads.

* * *

**Author's notes**

So, I promised a more plot-driven chapter, but I'm not sure if I delivered... I tried to keep the scenes shorter, and keep the information-dump at a minimum. (I remember reading that J.K. Rowling made Hermione give all the long speeches that contain plot information because the reader would accept that she was the most likely one to drone on about those things! lol) So I tried to write these scenes as if the reader was a fly on the wall, overhearing events. And I tried to liven it up with oddball or arrogant characterizations. This had to be a set-up chapter. Hope it didn't slow things down too much. And if it did...take heart. Hopefully you can already tell there will be a lot of things happening in the next chapters. So get ready...

Couple of personal notes: Just got back from seeing the cherry blossoms in DC. It delayed the chapter a bit, but I can definitely write authentically about cherry blossom festivals! lol If you have a cherry or any other blooming tree where you live, I highly recommend planting yourself underneath one for a few hours. It's a wonderful Japanese tradition we should all do more of. And if you went to see the Hunger Games, then you saw the part of the world I live in (the mountains of North Carolina). Many of the mountain/woods/waterfall scenes were filmed in a nearby state park.

Lastly, thanks so much to all the reviewers. I've tried to respond to everyone, but I know I've not gotten to everyone yet. (I'm going to try and catch up on the rest now that this chap is done.) But please know how much I appreciate it. It really keeps me going! Special thanks to Yoshimoya on H&E — your words are a gift! So yeah — read and review! Oh, and please let me know if this info-heavy chapter came across ok...

And seriously. Get ready for the next one. :)

**Chapter Notes**

So hopefully this chapter illuminates a little of the what's been going on behind the scenes. Not too much Sakura in this one, but everything revolves around their activities. So even in the scenes without Katsuro, they are still the focus.

• Sakura and the cherry blossoms — There is so much made of her name, being a sweet moniker to accompany her pretty looks, but really the symbolism is bittersweet. They gorgeous petals are only temporary. So I wanted Sakura to identify with the tree, not the blossom. She is rooted to her course, and she has to persevere. And thinking of it that way, it makes Katsuro as elusive and fleeting as the petals. She wants to hold on to him, but she just can't.

• Naming Wei and character attributes in incidental characters — alright, so I'm going back on my words about OCs…sort of. I'm finding it's necessary to add some more-fleshed-out background characters to help move the plot along. I never remember names when reading OCs, so I prefer things like the captain, the chakra sensor, etc. But this chapter I had to establish a clear rival for future events. And I think it's just too much to go without a name. So for most of the little OCs they just get a character attribute: biting nails is the Rain tracker's nervous habit; the teen in the noodle shop always wiping his nose. And these bad habits hopefully help delineate these characters as rather low on the totem pole compared to other bigger bad habits such as vanity (Wei's contact) and arrogance (Wei himself).

• conflicting attitudes — So I've written in some conflicting attitudes in this chapter. Here shinobis aren't just universally accepted. The soldiers, thugs and men like the tracker, men who have _some_ skills but not a lot, are quite resentful and distrustful of shinobis. And then, there are rivalries between shinobis, especially from older ex-Rain shinobis being ordered around by a young ex-Konoha shinobi. So in this world, shinobis' secretive nature often breeds distrust, whether they do good or not.

• _"In fact, a client from Sound just offered me an extra…300 ryo for information about exceptional children. So I could easily take my knowledge to him."_ — that would be Orochimaru. Lol. He's not really a part of this story, but he's still in the background.

• _"Alright. You want the bigger picture? Here it is:"_ — So I hope these explanations shed light on some of the agendas from these groups, without slowing the story down too much. Think of the mob, it has lots of different branches and different goals — some for the betterment of the group, some for the betterment of an individual. I'm trying to write the Akatsuki, Itachi and the group of soldiers like that. A tiered group working for similar goals, some seen and some not yet revealed. The rest of the agendas — and Katsuro's part in it — will be revealed in the next two chapters.

• _Madara. Itachi sullenly watched the apparition take form, then bent back to his work without even a greeting. _— Itachi is self-serving, and so is Madara. And Itachi hates being under anyone's thumb. So I love that he displays a little petulant streak with Madara, who is being manipulative as usual.

• Madara's talk with Itachi — there is lots there to be read between the lines. So, yeah. I think most of it speaks for itself, but check the spoiler notes if you want to find out more.

• Mirrored conversations: Wei and the captain; Itachi and Madara — So both of these reveal plot points, and hint at hidden agendas. Basically everyone in this group is using the other to get what they want. From the top down. In the end, both conversations tie up with the principle characters restating their resolve for their own personal cause.

• _Itachi's quiet voice floated through. "I need you to take care of a loose end for me…."_ — Sakura, of course, is the loose end. So even though she's barely featured in the chapter, hopefully you understand that all of the action is pointing towards her.

• _But hanging out of her pack, the end of the scroll caught the sunlight. It swung jauntily as she moved, hopelessly tangling the brilliant red threads._ — Again, using the red thread of fate symbolism


	31. Cracked

Chapter 31 - Cracked

Sakura wiggled her wet toes before stepping into another pool of golden light. Streams of morning sun angled down through the canopy of Konoha's ancient forests, dappling the shinobi trails. Scuffing over a patch of moss, Sakura's shoes flung out dew in big sparkling arcs in front of her. She smiled, relishing the early morning solitude.

Sakura had always loved the deep forests that hid her village. As a child she peered out wide-eyed at the green-black world beyond the towering gates. The woods were so full of mystery to her.

But as she grew older, became a shinobi and ventured beyond the safety of the walled village, her childhood awe of the great forests dimmed. Sakura recognized it was a tactical necessity, a defensive zone encircling Konoha that was in turn patrolled and protected by her shinobis. And she knew now that all the hidden villages had similar defensive barriers. Each dangerously beautiful. Each deceptively empty.

Yet in her first year out of academy, when her childhood views were shedding like autumn leaves, Sakura discovered a cool pocket of forest that was still peaceful, still mysterious. In spite of all the harsh realities she'd learned about the world.

Neither time nor experience diminished it. Over the years it had only grown more special to her.

Sakura recognized the familiar bend in the trail. She breathed deeply, letting the quiet seep in. The path curved and dipped down into a quiet glade. The trees nestled closer together, casting the area in perpetual green shade. A haze of moss clung to the trunks.

She followed the trail down, and the trees closed their ranks around her. The deeper she went, the more the moss covered everything, creeping over the ground like a thick carpet. Even the path was soft.

The area always felt hallowed to her. And perhaps, that's because it was. To someone, at least.

Sakura slowed, craning her neck and watching between the huge trunks for a glimpse of the small misshapen stone that marked this area as different. On rare occasions she was at the right spot to see the tall misty shape, hovering beyond the farthest line of trees like a ghost.

Another step, and there it was: She had come even with a small grey stone far off the shinobi path. It tilted cozily toward the base of a tree, half-sunk in moss, as if an errant river rock has been washed up in the green tide. But even from the path, Sakura could see it smiling at her.

The dimpled roundness caught her eye years before, when she was a fresh genin and she should have been paying more attention to her team. But her attention flitted to other things…like her hair…and Sasuke-kun...and strange rocks that seemed to be smiling at her….

In those first harrowing years, she adopted the quiet space and the funny rock as a talisman. When her feet padded over the soft ground she knew she was close to home.

But one afternoon a bird happened to find the moss on Sakura's rock much more appealing for her nest than any other. The bird plucked up a thatch and flew off. And Sakura nearly tripped over herself on the path.

A round eye squinted out. _That fat little stone really was smiling at her! _

Ahead of her, Team 7 bobbed up over the hill and out of sight. They never paid much heed to their dawdling teammate. Sakura didn't care.

Completely alone, her gaze slid back to the rock. She gave in to her childlike impulse.

Dress whipping at her knees, she dashed off the trail toward the rock, squashing deep footprints into the green carpet behind her.

Sakura hunched down and quickly flaked off the rest of the moss until she uncovered the smiling face of a little monk. She sat back and beamed at her discovery.

Only the slightest carving had been done to accentuate the natural shape of the rock, but she could make out clasped hands and the edges of a robe under the cloak of moss. Round head tipped to the side, he smiled up as if he were in on some secret that Sakura was only just figuring out.

In fact, he was so jubilant, so captivating with his great dimpled smile, that the question of _why_ he was in a dark corner of the woods came only as an afterthought. Sakura pushed the long hair out her eyes and looked around. The area was beautiful and dreamlike in it's haze of green, but it didn't quite make sense why a monk would be out here in the middle of the woods.

That is, until she saw _it_. Something old and grey and lurking in the deeply shadowed woods behind the small statue. She rose slowly and watched it for a moment. But the shape didn't move. She gulped, cast a last glance up the trail — _Still alone._ — then cautiously made her way toward the ghostly apparition.

Back in the present, Sakura couldn't help but smile at the memory. She knew now that humans were much more to be feared than any ghosts. She tucked the shorter hair behind her ears and toed the thick moss edging the path. But even though she was older, the mysterious qualities of the glade had never waned. In fact, it had only become more special to her over the years.

Giving in to impulse as she had done when she was 12, Sakura left the path. But this time her footsteps were soft and soundless, and, out of habit, she left no trace on the moss.

She paused at the monk's little round head and brushed off a stray leaf. The green haze had crept back over his face. But Sakura didn't disturb it. He still grinned up as cheekily as ever.

Passing him by, she wove down through a line of enormous grey tree trunks until she came to a shaded hollow. The land rose sharply into a hill at the back of it. The area, surrounded by columns of trees and backed by a wall of land, seemed to make a natural shrine.

And it was in that cloistered spot that someone generations before her had decided to place a statue of the deity Jizo. The serene protector of travelers. Of mothers and children. Of those lost, in this world and the next.

Sakura tipped up her chin to gaze at the peaceful, standing figure.

She often wondered if those who placed him there knew how important he would be to the shinobis who were forever leaving on this trail, many never to return again. But there was no one to ask. The statue looked to be centuries old. And over time, the forest had proved to be a greater force than the original caretakers.

Moss lapped at the base of the statue. It had settled over the years, and now the Jizo listed gently in the dim green light. Which made his serene expression even more poignant. His down-swept eyes, open hands and slight knowing smile made it seem he perfectly accepted the changes around him. Though he had escaped the moss covering of the small monk, his once-smooth stone was a grey and pitted as the surrounding tree bark. It looked more like he grew there than he was ever set by human hands.

Sakura stood in front of the statue and soaked up the silence. She knew she was not the only one who took a measure of comfort from it. Over the years she noticed small offerings left at the base — nothing more than a flower or a stone — but they spoke of the obvious solace given in the face of the unknown. She wondered if they were the prayers of those leaving or of those left behind that accompanied these little gifts.

Sakura bobbed a quick prayer for protection then turned back to the path. The quiet reverence of the spot stayed with her as she walked on, following the path through the broad woodlands until the trees thinned and fields and pastures opened up before her.

Sakura let the sun warm her shoulders. Her solemn reflections burned away like morning mist. Looking out over the bright countryside, Sakura felt the familiar stirrings at the thought of seeing Katsuro. She smiled. And with renewed energy she descended down the path as it wound away from Konoha's great woods and into the vast farmlands of the Fire Country.

* * *

Katsuro passed a hand over his face, wiping away grime and sweat, and knocked back his hood. But the blistering midday sun just beat directly down on the top of his head. And the thick air still felt like it was choking on him.

Scrambling up the powdery bank, he leaned into the thin shade at the bottom of the cliff. All around him serrated outcrops shot up from the ground, pushing out of waterlogged ground like a thousand kunai blades.

Sandy, rocky banks piled at the bottom of each cliff, the walls of which ran row upon row in every direction. This land was dangerous and confusing. And that's why he was here…because it was the path no one else would take.

Katsuro glanced around again, stealing just a few more moments of cool air on his head and neck. He knew he shouldn't even be letting this much of his face show before making completely certain it was safe. But he was pretty sure he was the only soul stupid enough to be in this forsaken terrain.

Katsuro picked out his direction and pulled his hood back over. Powdery rock dust puffed out under his feet at the slight movement. Katsuro frowned at it. Even though it was nearly a desert where he stood, his shoes and fatigues were soggy. His life was like this, wasn't it? A mixture of opposites. He sighed and stamped the water from his shoes.

Trekking through the empty terrain at the edge of the waterfall territory had him slogging through extremes. The land was nothing but narrow waterways banked by dry slices of heat-cracked rock. A tug-of-war environment at one edge of the Earth Country. But this unforgiving landscape was exactly why Katsuro was here. Because he knew no one else would be. Even the Earth shinobi didn't patrol this border.

Katsuro scuttled back down the crumbling outcrop, half walking, half sliding to thin stream. It was slow going, but the only way to get through this land and survive was to stick to the web of tributaries. Being up on the cliffs made for quick sighting — if there was anyone around to see you — but heat or sliding rocks were more likely to kill you first.

Scrubby growth clung to the streams, but the trees weren't big enough to climb, so he was forced to hop along the rocky banks instead of keeping to the shadows.

Katsuro stepped out onto a boulder that felt secure. But as his weight shifted, it shifted as well. A foot slid into the stream, and fresh water rushed over the top of his boot.

"Dammit," he muttered, sloshing onto a steadier rock and kicking out the water.

This whole assignment — the unforgiving terrain, the wet clothes, the sweltering temperatures — everything was working against him.

Itachi had hemmed him in with missions. And there was no getting out of it.

Before he'd left camp the previous morning, he'd wracked his brain for any crack that he could slip through, any way out. But there was none.

And more troubling, Katsuro couldn't shake the lingering feeling that he was missing something. Some detail, some facet of their group's plans, the wheels of which were just beginning to turn. But he was at a loss. He'd knew the part he was expected to play in their bigger plans…and he knew he'd covered his tracks with Sakura….

_Sakura…._

The farther he went, the farther he moved away from _her_. He shook his foot, spraying out water, and set off again, letting his frustration on that point push him on. Picking down the rocky rivulet, his mind drifted, as it inevitably had the whole trip, back to the events two nights before that colluded to send him out into this harsh, forgotten land….

Katsuro flopped down in front of the small fire outside his tent, bowl in hand. He scooped up a bite of dinner and began mulling his next mission assignment. He was mentally ticking off which weapons to take, which paths to travel by, when a slim scroll dropped straight down into his lap.

Katsuro glanced up to find captain standing above him, a small grin on his face at having surprised the kid.

"What's this?" Katsuro slurped up his food. He balanced the bowl on his knee then cracked open the scroll. Inside was a small map of the territories. Red dots were scattered across it, with the greatest concentration streaking through the middle.

"Itachi said since you enjoyed traveling you could handle these as well." The captain dropped a round-bottomed knapsack beside him. Katsuro looked in, jostling the dozen or so scrolls inside, before gaping up at the captain in utter confusion.

The captain snorted. "Yeah, he said they'd take you a while. Better get to it, kid." He turned and strode off, leaving Katsuro, his temperature steadily rising while his dinner began to cool. He shoved the bowl aside and jumped up, angrily clutching the neck of the sack..

"Hey! This— I-I can't do all these!" he shouted at the captain's back. But the older man just shrugged and kept going. Katsuro pitched down the bag and sat back down with a huff.

Itachi had already assigned him the mission near the old Rain Country borders. It was the farthest, most time-consuming assignment they had. But these — he shook the bag, peering in, shocked to find even more thin scrolls hiding at the bottom — would easily take him several months. Especially if he had to go back a few times.

Katsuro fully unrolled the map scroll and a small paper fell out. It carried precise instructions for the handling of each, as well as when and where he was expected to report.

Katsuro ground his teeth in frustration. _It didn't make sense! Why was all this dumped on him? Him alone? _

But the message was clear, even as he railed against it: Itachi wanted him accountable for each and every movement. His days of freedom were over.

Katsuro stared at the fire, anger warring with the hopelessness that had taken hold. The scroll shifted in his lap. He felt like hurling it into the fire. But he couldn't. This was his life, his responsibility as a shinobi. If he was assigned it, then he had to do it. He knew how important it was to Itachi, to their group….

Despite all that, he still wanted to see Sakura. More than anything.

His grip tightened on the curled edges of the map. He scanned it distractedly one more time, then shoved the it into the rucksack with the rest of the scrolls. There was no way around this.

The fire danced on merrily. His dinner sat half-finished. But Katsuro's stomach was tight as a drum. He stood, leaving his bowl untouched.

Flopping back in his tent, he stared up at the ragged seams in the flickering darkness. Instead of his missions, Katsuro went over every way he could possibly think of to get to _her_. But there was none.

At some point, the fire guttered out. And some time much later, sleep finally claimed him.

In dim haze of morning, activity buzzed around Katsuro. He pushed back the tent flap, squinting in irritation. Smells of cooked food hung in the air, as did soft clinking of weapons and the quiet conversations of men gearing up. Normally, the activity would have Katsuro fired up, but this morning, he begrudged it all.

Everyone seemed to be up before him. The anticipation of Itachi's new assignments had them all moving, even the ones who weren't on active squads.

His unfinished dinner bowl beside the blackened fire dredged up memories of last night. _When everything went wrong._ But another waft of cooking breakfast smell hit him like a wave, and his stomach growled loudly.

Katsuro clutched his gut and set off through the camp to the cook fire, dropping his eyes to the ground. Every step made him feel awful, but there was no other choice. It had to be this way—

Wei's voice suddenly sounded from the next row of tents. Katsuro slowed, glancing down the row to see the wiry black-haired nin giving orders to two bulky men. Katsuro knew the others by sight. They were thugs. Killers. They had some combat training, but they weren't ex-soldiers or shinobi, so they were expendable. At the moment they were the favored dogs of the squad leaders…at least until they got killed.

"You'll need extra kunai for this one." Wei pointed toward the munitions tent. "You should never underestimate—"

Wei locked eyes with Katsuro, but this time there was no smile. Instead he pivoted smoothly, turning his back to Katsuro and continued his conversation in a whisper.

Katsuro didn't care. He kept going. Activity was equally brisk in the center of camp. Men eating, coming and going.

Looks like everyone's antsy with this one, Katsuro thought dispiritedly. Everyone except him. He scooped out some food and headed back to his tent. Within an hour he was ready to go.

Scroll-laden knapsack on, weapons strapped in, cloak fastened at his neck, Katsuro stared up at the trees beyond the last lines of tents. It was in the opposite direction he wished he was going. But there was nothing he could do.

Katsuro twisted the fabric of his shirt. His chest _ached_, in a completely new and awful way than it ever had with the kyuubi.

He knew this was the life of a shinobi. _His_ life, the one he so desperately wanted as a child. But damn if he didn't wish he could change it…just for a moment.

He wished he could put aside his obligation to Itachi, just this once, to go to her and explain a little of what he felt, and why he couldn't see her again. And then…. And then…. Could he really just walk away…?

Katsuro's chest ached again. He grit his teeth against the empty feeling that had settled there.

He shook his head, trying to rid himself of it. He couldn't go to her. It was impossible. He was a ninja and he had a job to do. He'd just have to cling to the dim hope he'd run into her again.

Katsuro angrily pushed it from his mind. _Quit stalling. Get on with your mission. _He dipped his head and lunged hard for the treetops_._

But more than a day and a half later, Katsuro accepted that feelings had never left him, no matter how much he tried to ignore them. He felt their burden with each step.

But he kept going. Over forests and fields and beyond to edge of the territories, where the land turned to water and rock. He kept moving.

Katsuro adjusted the hood over his head and wiped the fresh sweat from his brow. Ahead of him the stream churned through a narrow pass.

He gingerly leapt from rock to rock, trying to keep to the largest boulders above the roiling waters. The heavy knapsack jerked and bumped with the movement, but he was too far up the narrows to stop and adjust it.

He still wasn't happy about being sent to Rain. Not after losing the mission that was closest to Sakura's location to Wei. But it made better sense now. He should have known Wei would be tapped for that mission. And he wished he'd kept his mouth shut in Itachi's tent.

_Maybe that would have kept Itachi from getting his black feathers ruffled and sending me out here_, he grumbled to himself, leaping wide over a channel of frothing white water. The water rumbled and rolled ahead of him as far as he could see. No more taking it easy, he grimaced, and trained his eyes to the wet rock tops jutting out farther and farther away from each other. He leapt hard and kept going.

This mission was part of Itachi's bigger plan. He was certain of that, no matter how much he hated doing it. Itachi never left anything to chance. _All_ their actions were part of his master plan. And now it was all coming together.

The small jobs, the petty thefts for money, the strong-arming of towns to force them to trade at cheaper rates, the network of people paid off as middlemen, and the steady flow of these resources through the lawless territories was all building to this.

Picking his way up the stream, Katsuro kept his eyes down and chewed over what he knew so far. The bits of information gathered from overheard conversations and from things Itachi himself had said were all like scattered pieces of a much larger picture.

Wearing the black fatigues and cloaks of Mist nins, operatives from their group were acquiring metal…a lot of metal…enough to supply a whole shinobi village. And this last job was to be their biggest, sure to draw the attention of other hidden villages. And Katsuro bet that's exactly what Itachi hoped. Which was a good plan, really…. Because by keeping the same disguise, it made it look as if Mist was planning to manufacture weapons of war.

The last shipment, a caravan of high-grade metals, would out do all the rest. Through middlemen and false Mist emissaries, their group promised a small fortune and set up an exchange point. But that's were things got exciting.

Because before the haul ever reached the exchange point, another "village" was going to ambush it.

Disguised as rogue shinobi, complete with stolen headbands, another squad from their group would appear on the road and intercept the caravan. And they'd be sure to leave behind a few headbands as a calling card.

A huge haul of high-grade metal goes missing. One country denies responsibility for the deal, while others are blamed for it's theft. Their suspicious accusations, centering around metals for weaponry, would easily turn to threats of war.

Itachi got away with the supplies, the money _and_ turned nations against themselves. Katsuro shook his head and leapt to another rock. That was Itachi. Going to amazing lengths to get what he wanted.

And the rest of the nations would never know that the metal was going to another hidden village…one right under their noses.

For that reason alone, Wei was the best candidate for this last leg of the mission — as much as Katusuro hated to admit it. As an old Rain shinobi, Wei had the most to lose. The metal was going back to rebuild the Rain village and fortify those souls foolish enough to return there. It was part of Itachi's assignment from Akatsuki, but Katsuro grasped that there was much more at stake than just community service. Wei probably did too, and by putting him in charge, Itachi was assured the mission wouldn't fail: Because if Wei botched this, then all hopes of rebuilding his homeland were lost.

The steady thrum of the rushing water was growing to a dull roar with every intersection of cliff walls. Katsuro paused and narrowed his eyes…big waterfalls. He was moving too far south, deeper into Waterfall country. Water churned white and angry every direction he looked. _Shit._ He'd have to backtrack.

He'd charted his course to be crossing the arid plains of the Grass country by mid-afternoon, so he could get a night's rest before slipping through the borders to Rain. His delivery wasn't due in until the next night. But Rain was treacherous. He wanted to give himself extra time. This detour could cost him hours….

And indeed, by the time he clambered into a narrow canyon with smooth, slow-moving waters, the late afternoon sunlight was streaking orange down the cliff walls. He'd be lucky to make it to Grass by nightfall now.

Slipping on the same wobbly rock he'd teetered off of before, Katsuro mentally kicked himself. This wasn't like him. He didn't make screw ups like this. What the hell was wrong with him—

But even as he funneled chakra to his feet to move with more stability, certainly making his presence more noticeable in the wasteland, _if there was anyone out here to even see him_, he knew what was wrong.

_Sakura._

His mind was endlessly drifting to her. But now that he had time to kill, he indulged in the futile train of thoughts he spent so much energy ignoring.

She would be waiting for him. Watching the edges of the trade road or peering around dark buildings, her green eyes wide, looking for him. She'd curl her hair softly. Sigh. Finally she'd give up. She'd deliver her scroll. Then she'd return to Konoha.

The tightness in his chest returned.

The thought of her waiting and waiting made him wretchedly miserable. She would be disappointed. And alone. He rubbed a hand into the hollow of his sternum.

He hated to think of her perhaps coming on someone else, like those thugs in the village, believing it was him. Or worse…what if it was someone from his group?

He shook his head lightly and pushed on. No, she delivered information or medicine or whatever it was she did during the day. His group operated at night. As a rule.

He wasn't happy that Wei would be so close to her. But he remembered her words from a before. She was a shinobi. She could handle herself. He had to trust in that too.

Besides, he wasn't even sure that one was assigned. It was still on the desk when he left Wei in Itachi's tent—

Katsuro narrowed his eyes.

The red-tasseled scroll…. Wasn't it the same one he had brought back from his last big job? The one that Wei took over? Yeah, he was sure of it. He knew it looked familiar. He had been in such a state that he hadn't recognized it before that. It was the one that he had gone to such lengths to get during the cherry blossom festival.

He laughed to himself. No wonder he hadn't remembered it. He'd really over-extended himself…not remembering scrolls, important places….

And it made sense for Wei to continue that assignment if he was already in position as the Kiri nin. He had to concede that, even thought it still pissed him off.

Wei would have his hands full with the delivery and whatever else Itachi had tasked him with. Some loose ends, he'd said. Wei wouldn't have time for a lone shinobi on a diplomatic mission.

Katsuro could see Sakura smiling and chatting with farmers and merchants, housewives and small children who looked up at her in wonder…. But a shadow fell across those sweet pictures. _Everyone_ noticed her.

A Konoha shinobi, even on a diplomatic mission, would _not_ escape Wei's notice. He was that thorough.

But they would probably never cross paths, he told himself.

Itachi's words, "a loose end," floated up again. Someone must have gotten in their way. Wei will probably be preoccupied with dispatching them first….

Katsuro's thoughts drifted to the red-tasseled scroll again…Wei's private conversation with Itachi…. Then Wei advising two thugs on weapons for a mission….

Something about that didn't make sense. Wei never needed back up. He ran squads on orders of the captain. But he preferred operating alone. He was a shinobi assassin. The odds were more than in his favor.

What would he need two extra thugs for? Just who was he planning on going after?

Itachi's voice drifted up. _Several towns have employed shinobi protection...from one of the hidden villages._

Katsuro knew these towns. They all did. These were the hold-outs, the areas where they had not been able to make in-roads yet.

But when Itachi mentioned protection, he had dismissed it. After all, he'd never seen any evidence of it. Not once had he encountered another shinobi. He didn't even know why they were hold-outs anyway. It seemed like they weren't trying hard enough. Sakura had even mentioned a few the towns. They just seem to be run by stubborn old men, more concerned with their petty problems than anything else—

A rock shifted, pitching him forward. His foot slid into the water. The knapsack swung sideways, banging his ribs. But he barely noticed.

Katsuro's mouth had gone dry. Sakura _had_ visited many of those towns. Or nearby them. And though she didn't exactly stand guard on the town road, she definitely helped with diplomatic problems….

He picked up speed on the river, ticking through everything she'd ever told him with increasing dread.

Memories blurred together. Her sweet, smiling face at the campfire….

_"Let's sit, okay? I've been standing at a meeting all day…."_

_"The clan requested me personally. I guess word gets around…."_

Walking side by side, her expression thoughtful….

_"I heal when I can, but that's not what I'm here for…."_

_"I'm a diplomat and a shinobi. I guess you could say I do both! It certainly has turned out that way…."_

Her explanations were easy enough, but he was beginning to grasp a bigger picture.

What if _she_ was the shinobi "protecting" the hold-outs. And he had never encountered another hidden-village shinobi because…because he was _with_ the only one out there.

That thought rocked him like a punch. He stopped suddenly, panting, and turned in a circle looking up at the jagged canyon walls. They were coming up at all angles around him, closing him in under the purpling sky.

_If-If it was all true, then Sakura…._

He desperately needed to get out of this labyrinth.

Katsuro leapt off the flat rocks, picking up speed and pushing down chakra, running toward the blade-thin spine of a crumbling peak. He launched at lowest notch, hurtling up the spine, one foot over the other, till he reached the peak. He balanced on the balls of his feet, pooling his chakra there. A few loose rocks gave way and skittered to the water far below.

Katsuro didn't notice. He swept his gaze around the unimpeded view to get his bearings. Ahead of him, the spires were scattering and tapering off. Beyond, the Grass country lay flat and wide and beckoning. But he turned away.

Katsuro looked back over the peaks that jutted up higher and higher like sharpened teeth, back in the direction he'd just come. The sky was dark at the horizon. A half moon was just beginning it's ascent.

_Was she out there? Was she in danger? Or was it all in his head?_

A breeze lifted the sweat-tipped bangs at his forehead. But it didn't make him cooler.

Another thought struck him. Katsuro ripped off the rucksack and pulled out the map. He scanned it quickly, dread filling him. The red marks still ran through the center of the map like a gouge. But this time he looked at the places, the towns…. _No, it couldn't be…._

Katsuro plunged his hand in the sack and pulled out several thin scrolls. The wax seals were thick, meant only to be opened by the recipient. Katsuro knew the rules — never, never, never open a scroll…it ruined the deception — but was far beyond caring. He ruthlessly tore them open, scouring each one then ripping open the next.

His face went paler with each scroll. A ringing filled his ears. _How could he have missed it?_

But all the separate pieces were slipping into place. There was enough to confirm it. It was all there.

Itachi's face floated in front of him. "I need you to take care of a loose end…."

He remembered Wei's grim voice as he spoke to the two thugs…"You need stronger weapons. You should never underestimate your opponent…."

They were going after a shinobi. They were going after _her_.

A familiar heat bubbled up inside. The ringing turned to a hard, drumming heartbeat.

_She_ was the loose end. And it was all his fault.

Katsuro tore off, leaping from peak to peak, hurtling over the stretching maw of land with its thousands of jagged-toothed spires, back toward the dark horizon, the rising moon and Sakura.

* * *

Beside the trade road, an old stone marker bearing an even older clan name shone blue against the shadowed woods. _This was the one._ Sakura turned off and disappeared beneath the canopy of trees.

The narrow lane meandered gently down the forested hillside. Her destination was the large clan compound tucked in the valley.

She sighed, rolled her shoulders and brushed the dust from her skirt. Pale moonlight dappled the road. It was plenty high enough to see by now, which Sakura was grateful for. The woods would have been pitch black without it.

Delivery had been requested to be under the cover of night. Which was fine…but there were inherent dangers in traveling at night for shinobi and civilian alike. Fortunately, this part of the territories north of Fire was filled with family enclaves and was relatively safe. She probably wouldn't run into any thieves or hoodlums out here.

Well that wasn't entirely true, she thought. After all, she _was_ hoping to run into one thief in particular.

Sakura scanned the quiet trees. It was the perfect place for Katsuro to hide. She slowed and listened but heard nothing except the soft hush of wind-blown leaves. She pushed out the disappointment. He said he'd come…she had to trust in that.

It was a mild late spring evening and not uncomfortable for travel. Even a few birds were still warbling from the tree tops. The lane rose and dipped into a long straight stretch, before curving and disappearing again. Sakura crested the first hill, remembering this detail from her mission notes. Two more curves then the valley should open up. The compound should even be visible—

A bird chirped again. This time closer. Sakura thought she saw it's shadow dart through the splattered blue light. But when she looked up, it was gone.

The corner of her mouth hitched up into a smile. The bird chirped again. She nearly laughed. It was so awful, he wasn't even trying—

Gravel crunched on the road behind her. Sakura turned in a whirl, already smiling….

But the face grinning back from under the deep black hood wasn't Katsuro's. Her eyes went wide.

Another hooded figured dropped down, black cloak pooling around him. He grinned toothily at Sakura and popped his knuckles as he walked closer.

The man in the front whistled the same warbling bird call.

_It was an ambush._

Sakura jumped backwards, never loosing eye contact, and dropped into her stance.

The men didn't seem concerned. They slowly advanced. Smiling and popping knuckles. The man in front dropped a chained weapon from the cuff of his cloak. It's sound rattled through the still woods. He swung it menacingly, slowly gaining speed.

Sakura ground her feet into the gravel and pushed chakra to her calves. Kunai in hand, she took a shallow breath then lunged….

* * *

Katsuro pitched over the last few spires, catching each one in a terrifying balancing act that was becoming increasingly hard to keep up. Sweat shuddered from his bangs as he landed and pushed off in great leaping bounds. The rucksack was sticky on his back and burning him up. But he wouldn't touch it. Not till he was through this. He lowered his head, ignoring the warning ache in his gut, breathed through his nose and pushed on. She was depending on him.

The line of trees loomed in front of him. Good…he could leap to the branches then really pick up speed.

He pushed hard off the last cliff, letting the chakra swirl down his legs. The rock cracked from the force. But he stayed focused on the trees ahead, aiming for the biggest branch, he—

Suddenly the trees were coming too fast. He couldn't stop. Katsuro crashed through the branches like a comet, feet first. He flung his hands out to grab hold of anything to slow him down.

His hand hooked a branch and finally he stopped. A swath had been cut in the treetop. "S-shit." The rucksack sagged off one shoulder. The strap had torn away from the bag. Katsuro grimaced, shoved it back up as best as he could and kept going.

The malignant burn of chakra was undeniable now. Not that Katsuro needed another reminder. That hole in the tree was telling enough that the demon's chakra was rising to the surface.

Katsuro brushed away sweat-soaked bangs. Still, the speed surprised him. Without anything in his way, he didn't realize just how fast he was going.

And now it felt like he couldn't go fast enough. His footings were solid, but he had to duck and weave through the branches. He was so far away. What if he couldn't get there in time….

Katsuro pushed hard again, frustration fueling him. But the molten core of chakra was rising too. It burned in his chest. He tried to ignore it, tried to run against it. With each leap the ache behind his navel only grew more pronounced.

Katsuro kept going, racing against time itself. He was so far away. _DAMMIT! _

The heat surged mutinously in his chest.

Katsuro coughed once, but kept running. Let me burn him alive, he thought, wincing at the pain and rubbing at the front of his cloak. He wasn't slowing down. Not when she was in danger.

The knapsack sagged. He hitched it back up without stopping.

He could see her, watching, waiting for him…. But instead it was Wei and his two dogs who were watching and waiting for her.

Katsuro pushed harder off the branch. The demon chakra fought against him, clawing at his insides. But Katsuro wouldn't slow down.

The sickening vulnerable feeling he felt with her had consumed him. Katsuro had prided himself on never having a weak spot. But now he knew he was wrong. He had a weakness, an avenue in which he could be hurt. And it was her. Her pain was his. Her fear was his. Her life was in is hands. Just as he now realized that his life was somehow tied to her. That feeling of vulnerability that she brought up was terrifying proof.

Katsuro flung himself through the darkness, desperate to get to her. But the malignant chakra spiked suddenly. Katsuro gasped, faltering in his step. The heat rose up through his chest and clawed at his throat.

Growling against it, Katsuro pushed off the branch even harder. He was fiercely determined to get to her. And he'd overcome the demon's crushing chakra to do it.

He ran and ran, bounding and pushing off, till the air around him smelled singed and only the cloak hid the faint orange glow clinging to his body. He burned and ached. And he could no longer hear the slap of his feet on the branch or the huff of breaths over the banging heartbeat in his ears. The one he knew was not his own.

But he didn't care anymore. _Come and get me,_ he thought ruthlessly. _Because I'm not stopping._

Her life depended on it. And now he knew his life depended on it too.

As if throwing everything it had at the boy, the malignant chakra exploded upward from his chest. The heartbeat hammered louder, drowning out all else, giving Katsuro vertigo.

He stopped suddenly, crushing his eyes shut and grasped the tree, gasping for breath. His gut felt like he was being wrung in two, just like in that wretched boyhood dream. He doubled over as the heat coursed over his face, his head, drowning him….

Then just as suddenly, the demon's chakra loosened it's chokehold. The heat edged back from burning him alive. Even the ache at his seal had diminished. And the heartbeat moved in time with his own.

It wasn't until Katsuro opened his eyes on the blood red world around him that he realized something had happened. Something had changed. The heat was still there, still molten, but somehow it had channeled into his muscles. It no longer tore at his middle.

He blinked, seeing the forest in bloody daylight, and he thought he understood. The kyuubi thought its host was in danger. And Katsuro had tapped into that power, just as Itachi had said he would. When he needed it most.

Well, he needed it now.

Katsuro heaved a breath and flexed his hands and arms. There were no more aches. He felt like he could fly through the forest, unstoppable, faster than anyone, he could even— The broken knapsack sagged off his shoulder again.

He hitched it up and scanned the trees. With his enhance vision he easily found what he was looking for.

After dropping the rucksack down into the hollow tree, he set off again. He was more determined than ever. Her life was in his hands. He wouldn't fail.

The demon's chakra welled up within him, pushing him on. It was still terrifying and molten. But for the first time he was glad it was his.

If only he could get to her in time.

He lowered his head and tried to focus on her, alone, walking right into Wei's trap.

* * *

Sakura drove her elbow up into the man's jaw, knocking his hood off. He staggered back, but righted quickly. He may not have been a shinobi, but the great lump of a man knew how to take his blows. He looked back at her and smiled, trying to scare her. Blood seeped through his teeth.

To his credit, he never took his eyes off her. Even as his partner crept silently up behind her. Or so he thought.

Sakura could hear the soft hiss of his feet on leaves, then the creak of the unoiled nunchucks, swinging once, twice….

The man in front of her shifted his eyes at the last moment to watch his partner deliver the blow. His mistake. Sakura darted forward and ducked, forcing the nunchuck to whizz perilously close to the other man.

They swore and grabbed after her. But Sakura was too fast. Again she avoided a blow and delivered a punishing uppercut in return.

The were burly, meat-fisted and slow, but the men had managed to work together. Sakura didn't have time to think about why. She'd disable them, then ask questions later.

They came at her, sometimes together, sometimes in tandem. One would advance, giving the other enough time to draw a weapon. Then they'd swap. They were well armed, better than most thieves she'd encountered. Sakura disarmed them of everything but the pair of nunchucks. And after a few stinging blows to her forearms and shins, she knew that would be next to go.

Sakura feinted a blow at the first thug to draw the second one in. Just as she planned, the first man flew past her, too slow to correct. The second flung out his nunchucks for a sideways strike to her exposed side. Sakura easily blocked it with her forearm, grabbing the wooden baton and holding it long enough to crack it in her grasp.

Stunned, the man indignantly jerked back his last weapon. He swung it around again, but Sakura was too quick. She dodged and the black baton shattered against a tree trunk. He threw it down, cursing, and tore after her, armed with nothing but his anger.

"Dammit, girl. I'll show you—"

A steady crunch of gravel rang out from the direction of the compound. Probably someone from the family, Sakura thought, coming to see what was the matter or coming to greet her. This would surely send the men running.

But the men didn't back off. One of them even chuckled. "This is the end, girlie."

Sakura caught her breath and watched them warily.

Another cloaked man sauntered up. Just a glance at their body posture told her they knew each other. Knew each other very well.

_What the hell was going on? This was an organized ambush. But it wasn't a robbery. And they'd never once lunged for her pouch with the mission scroll… So what did these men want?_

"What did I tell you," the cloaked man said. He pushed back his hood revealing a handsome face, close-cropped black hair and dark eyes. He flashed her a winning smile. Sakura knew at once this was the one in charge. "Never underestimate a kunoichi. Do you know why? Because they're women…or girls. As the case may be…." He unsnapped his cloak with a flourish, folded it and set it on the ground. "They know they have been dealt the weaker hand. So they have everything to lose." He smirked. "You should expect a fight to the death."

Sakura narrowed her eyes and sized up this new lowlife. His stance was deceptively casual. His body was limber and his hands were loose. But two silver blade edges glinted from behind his fingers.

Following her eyes, he grinned wickedly. "What do you say my dear, shall we dance?"

_A shinobi._ That changed everything.

Sakura shifted her feet for stability and eyed her opponents.

Should she eliminate the two thugs, but leave herself open to the shinobi…. Or go straight for nin and take her chances with the others….

The two kunai dropped down into his palms.

He shook his head, reading her thoughts. "You won't have any more time for them."

He smiled again, big and cruel, then lunged for her, kunai slicing the air as he came.

Sakura shot up to the branches. He mirrored her, keeping pace. The leapt from branch to branch, neither getting close enough for even a glancing blow.

Below, the two men watched the blotted canopy, mouths agape. They were land bound.

It was an old shinobi trick to lure your opponent into battle just to see their skills. The problem was it only worked on civilians. Shinobi never gave away their skills to each other. And Sakura and Wei were no different.

Both knew that taking to the canopies was a ruse to buy more time. Wei was betting that Sakura was tiring out, that she fled to the branches to give herself time to make a plan. And Sakura was letting him think it.

Sakura kept running, shifting her movements, baiting the black-clad man to come closer. She spied a big branch and dove for it.

Wei took the bait.

He flash-stepped ahead of her, kunai ready to slash across her throat. But at the first rip of her collar, Sakura's body exploded into a spinning log.

Sakura flashed behind him in the same instant and cracked the dull end of her kunai down on the base of his neck. It connected but didn't knock him. He swung back at her furiously as the log clattered down through the canopy. The men dance around stupidly beneath them to avoid being hit.

Sakura dodged his backwards elbow strike and bounced away, but he followed close behind. They moved like two black shadows through the dark leaves, streaking impossibly fast against the moon-blued sky. Only the ching of metal and the soft oof after a successful hit gave any sign that these weren't two forest creatures locked in a predator-prey battle.

Sakura dropped suddenly from the trees, surprising the two men. They wheeled around, kunai up, ready to attack. The one closest to Sakura slashed sloppily, more to stop her than to actually hurt her. But Sakura knew the real danger was still lurking above her, and she wasn't about to get trapped by a thug underling.

A soft woosh, and Sakura knew the black-clad shinobi was landing behind her.

Sakura lunged suddenly for the nearest thug. Evading his surprised jab, she leapt and plunged her blade down into the soft hollow between his collar bone and his shoulder. She leveraged herself up and over his shoulder, pushing off with her boot and pulling the kunai out as she flipped over. Sakura winced, but at least it was a painless death. Her blades were tipped with poison, and from that entry point, he'd be dead before his body hit the ground.

Sakura leapt wide, hearing the body crash down like a falling tree, followed by the shinobi's cursing and evasive footsteps. But there was no time to waste. The second thug was coming for her, arms wide to grab her up. Sakura ducked under his limbs and landed in a roll, never stopping. Frustrated, the thug forgot any training he might have had. He lumbered after her, ducking and weaving, swinging frantically only to clasp thin air when she evaded him again.

Sakura thought she would have to outrun him and take to the trees…when an arc of shuriken wheeled by on either side. It made a very clear, wet thunk directly behind her. Then there were no more heavy footsteps from the second thug. Just a slow crash, a single moan, then silence.

Sakura was at the safety of the treeline before she risked a glance back.

The shinobi walked slowly through the carnage, sauntering straight toward her. The big, ruthless smile had returned. Never looking down, he stepped on the back of the underling he'd just killed as if stepping on a log. A single shuriken protruded from the back of of the man's big head.

Sakura could have run to the trees again, but she didn't. Instead she waited for him. She dropped to a squat on the far side of the blue-splattered road. A thin line of blood seeped from a scrape on her cheek. Bruises were blossoming all over her. But she didn't dare check for deeper damage.

He wanted something. And she wanted to know what it was. Were they after her scroll? Sakura breathed shakily, watched his every movement and waited.

"I'm impressed. I had expected you to run, like a soft little rabbit." His voice was smooth and but his smile was vicious. "Then all that would be left was to catch you…and snap your neck." Wei dragged his hand across his mouth, eyes never leaving her. His voice dropped a notch. "But this has been much more fun."

Sakura knew his comments were meant to unsettle her. She ignored them completely.

"I hear your hair is pink. Too bad I can't see it in this light."

Sakura narrowed her eyes. _This wasn't about money or a scroll. They were after me._

"Perhaps I'll snip off a piece, enjoy it in the sunlight." He reached for another blade. It smoked as he pulled it from the thigh holster. "Something which you, my dear, will never see again."

Sakura seethed at her own mistake. She underestimated the thugs. Those men weren't meant to challenge her. They were meant to wear her out. Katsuro's words from the temple echoed through her mind. "They know who you are. They know what they want. And they are going to tear you apart."

She locked her jaw and readied her kunai. _It was time to end this._

He must have felt the same because for the first time his casual expression sharpened into a predatory focus. They both lunged with ferocity.

He sailed close, throwing jabs at her, continuously flashing the acrid-smelling blade. Sakura didn't know if it was poison or acid, but she knew immediately that it couldn't touch her. And her assailant pressed that advantage.

With one hand, Wei taunted her with the blade, whipping it close enough to burn streaks in her clothes. It was a calculated move so he could do the real damage with his other hand, landing several jabs when she was too preoccupied to block them.

Sweat pricked her forehead. She'd fought twice as long as her opponent had, and it was starting to show. She evaded, pitched back, tried to get him off balance, but nothing worked. And he was connecting more and more of his blows. In a snap decision, Sakura pushed him back and darted to the canopy to try to keep the upper hand.

Wei was hard on her. Sakura dashed and dodged him, suddenly glad for Sasuke's brutal training spars. She realized it had prepared her well for this. She was using every defense technique in her arsenal to stay one step ahead. But now it was time to take a page from Kakashi's book….

Sakura had circled back to the same branch a few times, giving a chakra-infused push each time she leapt off. Her trap was almost ready. One more push, it would snap and down he'd go. Then she'd have her opening to finish him.

Sakura ducked under his swinging jab and twisted back to the branch. At the last moment she slowed, just by a heartbeat, just enough to bring him closer to her and onto the branch as she leapt off….

She pushed hard, forcing as much chakra as she could muster into her foot. It worked. He landed solidly and the branch exploded just behind her launching foot. She lunged for the next branch—

But a hard yank on the tail of her shirt and suddenly she was tumbling backwards, falling with the splintering branches and her cursing opponent toward the dark ground somewhere below….

Sakura hit hard, head thrown backward. She defiantly scrambled up, throwing off branches. Her head throbbed, her mouth tasted of blood and she could only hear ringing. But she couldn't loose her advantage, this may be her only chance—

The crack of a wooden baton against her ribs was as loud as the snapping limb. Sakura's vision exploded in white hot pain. She gasped sharply and rolled with the force, away from him.

Wei followed her, a single nunchuck swinging from his hand. He licked the trail of blood at the corner of his mouth. Sakura couldn't see any injuries, but he was moving much slower too.

She knew she had to put some distance between them.

Drawing a shallow breath that felt like fire in her lungs, Sakura aimed for the canopy again. She grit her teeth and sped up the tree trunk. Wei didn't move to follow. A small smile touched his lips. Sakura couldn't think why until her hand closed around the first big branch. Paper crinkled under her fingertips. Wei's trap had been laid long before hers—

The cascading explosion of paper bombs burned red through the black lines of trees.

* * *

Through the trees, Katsuro saw the fireball. It was crystal clear with his enhanced sight even though it was still quite far away. The silhouette of a body pitched against the dark lines of trees then tumbled like a ragdoll to the ground. The shattering fan of her hair was unmistakeable.

Fear and rage tore through Katsuro. And with it, an unholy fire exploded in his gut. The demon's chakra surged and the woods turned red and clear as bloody daylight.

Katsuro closed in, bouncing from branch to branch. One step, the black cloak ripped off behind him in a great dark fluttering sheet. Next step, two fingers were raised for a hasty jutsu. His appearance shifted mid-air, brown hair drenching suddenly black. It was a standard-issue Konoha boot that rocked the next branch. Katsuro breathed deeply and let the raging chakra push him as he barreled toward the only silhouette still standing.

* * *

Sakura was completely disoriented. The only thing she was sure of was the flat rock-strewn ground underneath her.

And if she was on the ground, then she needed to get up.

Blinded, dizzy, and nauseous with pain, she pushed against the ground edged her way to sitting. She blinked furiously, forcing her eyes to focus after the flash. Sounds were still murky, but that was ebbing too.

Sakura wiped at a trickle of blood seeping from under the hair at her temple. She quickly assessed her vitals: Cracked ribs, possible concussion. A lot more, but those were the biggest.

A muffled voice swam through the darkness in front of her.

Sakura straightened, trying to look battle-ready despite the shooting pain in her ribs.

The voice laughed, growing clearer. A handsome, black-haired man came into focus. He was walking slowly toward her, sporting as many wounds. He looked her up and down. The cruel smile returned.

"Well, my dear, this _has_ been fun." He slowly unsheathed another smoking kunai. "But all things must come to an end…"

Fresh liquid dripped off the tip. It sizzled and steamed where it hit the leafy ground. Sakura struggled to rise, gasping against the pain. But he only laughed, mere feet from her now, closing off all hope of escape….

There was no warning, no rattle of leaves nor soft footfalls to precede him…just the sudden form of Sasuke Uchicha dropping straight down in front of Sakura, landing over her outstretched legs in a protective crouch.

He growled up at Wei, who hopped back in a rare display of open surprise.

Sakura looked at the black hair, the Konoha uniform. She knew in an instant it was Katsuro. She didn't know how she did, but she knew it down to her bones.

He was close enough to touch. But she didn't dare. He growled again and raw power rolled off him. Great waves of malicious chakra, like she'd nothing she'd ever felt before. It was disorienting. She lightly rubbed her temple, fighting the strange nausea.

Wei teetered back a step, but the little show of weakness was like igniting a bomb. Katsuro lunged with frightening ferocity.

Sakura blew out a shaky breath, the sudden queasiness ebbing. Forgotten, Sakura watched them fight. Katsuro hounded the man relentlessly, despite being pummeled and slashed. He kept pushing back, over and over. They streaked higher up into the canopy, moving away from her. But Sakura could hear their continuous clashing.

She scooted back against as tree, wheezing from the pain. Her inability to defend herself still made her a target.

Sakura unstrapped kunai with one hand, crossed an arm over her stomach and pushed the other chakra-cloaked hand against her cracked ribs. Her hand registered only a faint green glow…her chakra was low. She'd set the bones, but she wouldn't be able to heal much else without some rest.

The man hurtled back through the canopy, Sasuke's lookalike tearing after him, destroying anything in his way to get to the nin. The man's smile and swaggering style were gone. He bounced off a trunk then the ground in desperation. He was losing this battle.

Katsuro was vicious, taking blow after blow and returning punishing ones. Sakura knew he would never give up. But as she watched, it was as if that mantra had taken physical form. He never gave the guy an inch. He stayed hard on him.

Katsuro swung around for a jab, and Sakura was surprised to see the familiar glow of red eyes in Katsuro's disguise. His opponent must have known about the Uchihas' famed sharingan too, because he never looked at Katsuro's face.

But whipping his kunai up for a block, the nin looked at _her_. His expression sharpened. The hair rose on the back of Sakura's neck. She tightened her grip on her own blade, wishing she wasn't so open—

Suddenly the man came at Katsuro with blistering speed, driving him back with a one handed slash, over and over. Blades rang out, Katsuro stopping each blow with his own kunai. But the last thrust was brutal. He used the force of Katsuro's block against him and sent him skidding back in the dirt.

It was just a few steps, but it was enough.

The man's black eyes shifted, looking just over Katsuro's shoulder in a straight line to Sakura. His lips curled in a cruel smile. Sakura's blood went cold.

Katsuro realized too late that it was a set up.

The spate of poison-tipped senbon fanned down from Wei's other hand. They smoked like the kunai. He bent his arm and let them fly at Sakura.

There was no way to run. Sakura turned her head and crushed her eyes closed, bracing for impact.

Senbon whizzed in a line, hitting her and the tree and whistling past on either side. Her arm felt like it was on fire. But the extreme burst of pain she expected across her midsection didn't come. Sakura opened her eyes, confused. A needle had pierced her forearm, pinning it to the tree. Another sunk in the curve of her shoulder, the fabric around it already sizzling. And a third had sliced through her hair and lodged into the tree, mere inches from her cheek. She had ducked away just in time.

_But he had a clear shot! They should have mowed her down! Where were the other senbon—_

Sakura looked up frantically. Katsuro had thrown himself between her and the shinobi at the last moment. His arms were flung wide, and senbon stuck out at all angles from one of them. Save for one shuddering breath, he didn't move.

Wei tipped his head and looked around at Sakura. One hit was apparently enough. He smiled again, even hitching up his eyebrow in a little gesture of victory. He never glanced at the girl's Uchiha teammate, unconcerned since apparently _one_ senbon was enough to kill. With the dozen that poked from the boy's arm, he was probably dead on his feet. Wei turned to go with the renewed energy of the victor.

But strength was returning to Katsuro. A gutteral sound tore from his throat, and suddenly he was moving again. He hurled his kunai at the retreating nin's back with everything he had.

It plunged into Wei's shoulder with such tremendous force that it knocked him forward before he could lunge for the canopy. Wei crashed through the underbrush. Katsuro pulled out the senbon in great grasps and was about to go after him, but Sakura's sharp gasp stopped him.

Katsuro turned to see that he had not been able to deflect all the needles. His throat tightened at the sight of her, bloodied and bruised and pinned to a tree.

The crashing sound grew fainter. But Katsuro let him go. He went to Sakura.

"P-poison," she said when he was near enough to hear. Her breaths were shallow. The color was draining from her face. Her movements were slowing.

Katsuro began to panic. The red in his eyes quickly faded to black.

"Can't just you heal it?!" he burst out, nearly yelling in frustration at her sluggish movements. Katsuro looked hard into her glassy eyes. "What can I do? Tell me what to do—"

"My bag," she rasped past numbing lips. She struggled to move, but everything was going numb. "'M-Med kit."

Katsuro unclipped her hip bag and tore through it, finally dumping everything on the ground. A small zipped-up kit tumbled out. He grabbed it and opened it wide for her to see.

She nodded to the a large glass vial on the left flap. Katsuro unstrapped it, feeling suddenly clumsy. Amber liquid jostled in another glass chamber inside it.

"My leg," she wheezed with an exhale.

Katsuro frowned momentarily until he realized what he was holding: Sliding back the top exposed a sharp needle. It was an injection, a blanket antidote to shinobi poisons.

He turned the outside of her thigh, pushed up the fabric with his thumb, and jammed the open end of the tube against her leg. He looked up. She gave a single, pained nod. Then he pushed hard on the outer vial, releasing the shot with a slingshot force into her thigh. The inner vial quickly drained of all liquid.

Within moments, Sakura's breathing relaxed. Color returned to her face, and her body began to release from the death grip of the poison.

Katsuro released the needle, but he kept his hand on her leg, wrapped just around the top of her knee. He scooted closer, pulling the senbon that pinned her hair while she pulled the two from her arms. Fresh blood seeped from the wounds.

"I'm so sorry," he said, pushing the hair away from her face. He meant to inspect her wounds, but it was such sweet relief just to be with her and know she was safe, he realized he just needed to touch her. Katsuro gently cupped her cheek, brushing away dried blood with his thumb. "I-I should have been here. I should have—"

"No, it's ok. But I need you to…." Still slow from the poison, Sakura struggled to get to the contents of her pack scattered in the dirt beside her. "I need you to finish this for me," she said thickly. "The mission. I need you to…."

Katsuro scooted back. She finally found what she was looking for: Sakura held out a dirty, crushed scroll, the blood on her hands smearing on the once-ivory parchment, staining it the same shade as the scroll's red tassels.

Katsuro looked at it with the sickening realization of what it was. And what she was asking of him.

"I need you to deliver this scroll for me. Tell them it's from Konoha," Katsuro was already shaking his head no. But Sakura pushed the scroll into his hands anyway. "I can't do it. You have to. Please," she urged, voice shaking.

"No!" he snapped. "It's just a stupid scroll. It's—"

"Please! I have to finish this mission! I'm begging you!" She pushed the scroll at him again. "Just take it to the door of the compound. That's all they are expecting."

He clamped his hands on her shoulders and looked into her bloody, bruised face. It made him irrationally angry. He grit his teeth to keep from yelling at her. _Her pain hurt him! How could a scroll be worth this? She could have died. And that damn village wouldn't care—_

Sakura curled her empty hand around his forearm and looked into his face.

"After this, my part is done," she said softly. "I only have to deliver this message. But if they see I've been attacked it will just…complicate everything. How can Konoha protect them, if we can't protect ourselves?" She smiled grimly at her little joke, but Katsuro didn't smile back.

He frowned instead at the scroll nestled in the open hand in her lap. Hot fury spiked at everything that scroll represented: that village, her injuries…and his fears. He wanted to protect her and burn Konoha away for doing this to her. Angry chakra effortlessly churned in his midsection. A heartbeat thrummed in his ears, but it was accompanied by crying, wailing…ghosts of the kyuubi's memory. The demon was so close to the surface, intermingling with his thoughts, wanting what he wanted…to burn…to destroy….

Katsuro crushed his eyes shut, but he could still feel them burning and changing and turning a fiery red….

Sakura let out a soft groan. Katsuro stole a glance. Eyes closed, Sakura moved her hand to forehead and rubbed her temple. She looked like she was gripped by pain. Katsuro could guess why….

"Please," she implored in a tired whisper, never opening her eyes. "Please do this for me. Then I can go home." She gulped against the assault of malignant chakra. "Tsunade can fix everything," she breathed out. "And I'll never do a mission like this again."

That did it. Katsuro hooded his eyelids over burning red eyes. In a blur he'd snatched the scroll out her hand and stood. Back to her, he sucked in a hot breath and used the quickly fading burst of chakra to scan the blood-red woods for any sign of Wei. Two bodies were on the ground. A lot of destruction. But no Wei. In the next moment the red woods returned to normal.

Katsuro clutched the ache at his midsection and set off. He'd do this for her and buy himself some time to calm down.

"Wait!" Sakura called, clearly reviving the farther he got from her. "Didn't you get hit too? Are you ok? Do you need—"

"I'm fine," he called sharply over his shoulder. He didn't even think about the heat tearing up his arm, pooling at the spots where the senbon punctured him. The kyuubi's chakra had incinerated the poison before it could spread. Now it was only healing the wounds. He swept his gaze over the woods where Wei disappeared. Katsuro forced himself to let it go. _For now._ "I'll be back."

Katsuro took off down the long road, weighing his options as he ran. Wei didn't recognize him. At least that was a good thing. So it looked like Sakura had been saved by her teammate.

But she was still in danger. Once they realize she didn't die from her wounds, they might pursue her again….

He'd deliver this for her, finish her mission, then that was it. This was the end. It had to be.

Sakura's pained words rang in his ears. _I'll never do this again._ That's what convinced him. He'd hold her to it.

Katsuro rounded the trail and descended down the hill to the compound. Orange lights glowed at the entrance. They were expecting her.

He tightened his hands, creaking the parchment scroll in one fist. Looking down at it, Katsuro realized what he held. Information from Konoha. Confirmation of just how deeply she was involved….

Without hesitation he flicked back the torn paper, ripping it away from the seal.

He scanned the document quickly, his lips flattening to a thin line. _It was nothing. All this, over nothing._

The scroll contained nothing more than a ridiculous invitation from Konoha, an alliance in the broadest sense of the words. Sakura was just a messenger. Not the territories' shinobi defender like Itachi thought. It was just a coincidence….

His anger mounted at Konoha for ordering her out in the world with this scroll, an open target for attack, and at Itachi for apparently ordering her death.

But his anger was quickly eclipsed. Katsuro shook his head. _He_ had done this. The bulk of the blame lay with him.

He knew she had taken more and more missions to see him. And he had caught her up in something that wasn't her doing. Even if she was in those places, it wasn't what they thought. She was just a medic, running errands for her village. A diplomat and a medic, helping out where she could, just like she said.

_He'd_ brought this down on her. Now it was up to him to fix it and get her home.

Katsuro took a breath and made sure his henge as Sasuke still felt right. Then he passed through the gates, dashed up the manicured stones and rapped loudly at the main door.

The polished door slowly slid open. The house man frowned down at him.

Katsuro ignored him and shoved the scroll out without a word.

The man looked down at the Katsuro's hands then back to his face, unimpressed.

"And what did you say your name was—"

"I am…I am Uchiha Sasuke. From Konoha." The words turned to ash in his mouth. "I am delivering a scroll."

The man nodded and widened the door to take it. Light shone out around him, slanting across the false Uchiha and his offering.

The man edged back, his face a mixture of horror and disgust.

Katsuro glanced down. In the pooling light of the doorway, the scroll looked horrible. It was filthy and half-crushed. The seal hung off in tatters. And it was covered in blood. _Sakura's blood._

The whole thing made Katsuro dangerously mad. Heat flared in his chest.

"You were expecting it, right?" Katsuro shoved the scroll at the man. "Then just take it!"

Scowling, the man pinched an end and tugged it out of Katsuro's outstretched palm, holding it at a distance as if it stunk.

Without another word, he slid the door closed in Katsuro's face. Katsuro blinked in the darkness for a moment, then turned and dashed back off the porch. Grinding his teeth, he was glad for the run to burn off the anger. He'd knew feel even better once he was far enough to shed that damned disguise.

* * *

Sliding the door closed, the house man glided purposefully across the glossed floor to a red lacquered hutch. His silks whispered over the polished wood. The paper screened walls glowed with ivory light. And at the end of the long hall, beyond a half-opened door, pleasant murmured voices drifted down from the master's office.

The man dropped the scroll on the gilded tray atop the hutch and sniffed with disdain. The seal flapped back limply, and the blood-smudged thing looked grotesque against the glinting surface. He wished he could carry the thing in a bucket instead of sullying one of their fine trays.

Down the long hall, a rich baritone laugh rippled up. Knowing the master would frown on anything less, especially when entertaining a guest, the house man gently lifted the tray and its pitiful contents

He was halfway down the hall when a small side door opened. A young maid was just bringing up tea from the kitchen. She bobbed her head dutifully, then stepped up into the hall, about to turn and deliver their tea.

"Wait."

With a grimace, the house man dropped the scroll into one of his deep pockets. Relieving the girl of her tea tray, he bid her to take the gilded one back to the hutch at the door. He straightened the dishes and brushed away imaginary crumbs, waiting until she returned dutifully from her task. Dismissed, she disappeared back down the stairs, sliding the small screen quietly behind her.

The house man cleared his throat, straightened his shoulders and sailed smoothly into the room. He laid out the small bowls and prepared the informal tea. Then, while the master's guest was sampling the spread before him, the house man quietly informed his master that a scroll had been delivered.

Poised over a plate of peach buns, the cream sleeve of the guest stilled for a moment.

The master snorted, not bothering to conceal his irritation. "Took them long enough."

The guest relaxed and gathered up the length of fabric from the arm of his silk robe to reach over the buns for another temptation.

"Well, she's too late. I'm already more pleasantly occupied." He flicked long fingers at the table and his guest. "I'll see to the scroll later," he said crisply.

The house man nodded and quietly closed the screen door behind him.

Despite the privacy, the master of the house, a diplomat with the greying temples and a black kimono, sat forward over the table, leaning toward his guest.

"If my guard from Konoha can't see fit to deliver her missive promptly," he said with in a conspiratorial whisper, "then whatever they have to say will have to wait. Because right now," he poured tea for his guest, "I am much more interested in what you were telling me…."

His guest, a handsome man in cream silks, flashed him a broad, curving smile. "Yes it is a very unique opportunity…."

He dropped a small pouch of coins on the table, letting the strings fall open so a hint of the contents was visible. The diplomat's eyes widened.

The guest's smile grew wider, rippling up a dashing half-moon scar at the top of his cheek. "When I heard about it, I instantly thought of you…."

Back down the long hall, the house man tugged open the never-used center drawer in the red lacquer hutch and unceremoniously dumped in the scroll. It rolled once, echoing pathetically in the empty darkness. He skidded the drawer shut, dusted his hands and floated back down the hall to attend to his other duties.

* * *

Sakura snapped her head up at the sound of footsteps. But it was just Katsuro walking back down the moon-splattered walk. He'd dropped the henge, but she thought she'd probably recognize that silhouette anywhere. She knew the slope of his shoulders, the soft curve of his arms with his hands loosely jammed in his pockets. He looked tired or troubled.

She leaned against the tree and watched him approach, a little smile of greeting curving up her lips. She had healed her ribs enough to move around, but not much more. Even propping against the tree was to help conserve energy. She was going to need all she could get to make it at least partway to the Fire Country borders without stopping to rest.

She blew out a breath and pushed off the tree to standing, smiling brighter despite her barely patched injuries. But when Katsuro was close enough to see her, his face only registered concern.

He didn't speak, instead looked over the wounds on her arms, her neck. His hands were suddenly out, fingers spread like he would like to touch her, but he held back. Katsuro frowned at a line of dried blood coming from the back of her head. His eyes followed it's path out from under her hair and down her neck.

Sakura smiled, brushing it with her fingers. "It's ok. More scrape than head wound."

Katsuro nodded and shoved his hands back into his pockets. "Looks like you've got everything under control here, then."

He turned and without a word set to erasing their tracks and disposing of the bodies. Katsuro rose two fingers for the simple but highly effective fire jutsu standard in Konoha for disposal.

Sakura watched thinking, not for the first time, how ironic it was that he had been brought up in the Leaf nin style because of Itachi. _Katsuro would fit in so well in Konoha…._

Katsuro finished the bodies then moved the largest limbs out of the road, sending the small piles of ashes where the bodies used to be blowing like snow. He looked at the area where the paper bomb had exploded. Nothing he could do there. He shrugged and looked back at Sakura. She nodded in agreement. Bodies left a trail. But charred wood in a forest wasn't worth anyone's effort.

Katsuro darted off to get his cloak and Sakura slowly started for the main road. He was back faster than she expected. She tried to wipe the sheen of perspiration from her brow before he got too close. He pretended not to have noticed. Neither mentioned the fact she hadn't gotten very far in his absence.

They travel slowly back out to the main road and turned at the stone marker. The moon was sinking in the sky, but there was still enough light to see by, and more importantly for them to stick to the shadows. Beside them the road was vast and luminous grey.

They talked for a while about little things, but both lapsed into silence, each weighed down by their own thoughts. Sakura was mulling Katsuro's fighting style.

"So," Sakura drawled as the silence stretched out between them, "you really have some unique jutsus in your arsenal."

Katsuro coughed in surprise. "Nah, not really," he said quickly. "It's all just…well, it's just looks…uh, unique."

Sakura slanted a smile at him. He was either modest or hiding his skills.

"Still, you have a style that's all your own." Sakura continued when Katsuro stayed quiet. "It was pretty powerful. Hey, what was that one move—"

"Oh, it was all just an act really," Katsuro said, cutting her off. "Part of the justsu to look like that Uchiha."

Sakura held her rib cage, unable to prevent a laugh from burbling up. "Who Sasuke? You looked nothing like him!"

Katsuro looked at her, stricken.

"I mean, you look like him…but you're moves, everything about you is different. The appearance was right, but you look nothing like him. It still looks like you. Just in disguise." She looked sideways at him, catching his eye and smiling softly.

He smiled back. Somehow it made him unwind inside.

He grinned mischieviously. The corners of his eyes crinkled. "You mean like at the little girl's farm?" Sakura laughed once. He looked to the road, remembering last summer, when his antics as her teammate always elicited laughter from her. But when he turned back to Sakura again, wondering why she was quiet now, he found her grimacing and clutching her side.

Seeing she was caught, she turned her face to hide the pain. But it was too intense. Her breathing was coming in short stabs. She stopped walking.

Katsuro came around in front of her and watched with deep concern. Green chakra flickered around her hand for moment, but it was the palest he'd ever seen from her. And suddenly it was gone. Katsuro looked to her face to see if she was going to pass out right there. But instead she tested a normal breath, then gave a wobbly smile.

Katsuro blew out the breath he didn't realize he was holding. His gaze snagged on the trickle of blood on her neck. It looked slick in the moonlight. He frowned. Suddenly all hesitation was gone.

He stepped forward, cupped her jaw and tipped her head gently to the side. Her neck was still pale and smooth, just as he remembered it. He ran a hand up her hair, letting his fingers trace down the blood, wiping it away has he went. He didn't dare let his hand linger there, but he couldn't stand to see blood on the little slip of neck, that spot that he remembered from so long ago in the temple.

He slid his hands slowly away and shoved them in his pockets. But he didn't step back.

Sakura straightened, letting the tendrils of hair fall back over her neck. They moved in some unseen breeze that danced around her throat. Katsuro looked up to see her smile. She was tired, but that light was in her eyes. The one he remembered from last summer.

Katsuro cleared his throat. "You're really hurt."

"I'm ok." She smiled as if she really meant it, but Katsuro saw through it.

"You're not." Katsuro could see the purple bruises blossoming under eyes and at her jawline. Her ribs were cracked, her punctures were weeping and the unknown injury at the back of her head had started leaking blood again.

Every scrape, every bruise, every wound felt like it had been done to him as well. He looked at her, his expression as serious as his thoughts, and wondered at the depth of this new feeling. He'd suffered plenty of injuries, but these wounds cut much deeper.

She looked away, misunderstanding his severe look.

"I ran out of chakra," she said regretfully. "I wasn't prepared for a third. The two I thought I could manage." She shrugged. "I thought it was a robbery, and once they realized I was a shinobi they'd back off. But maybe that was the point." She looked away. "Because when the third came, the shinobi, I was already wearing down."

She shook her head and slowly continued walking. Katsuro stood for a moment, watching her, unable to find the right words, then began walking too.

They continued on in silence. At length, a fork in the road loomed ahead. Konoha was still a long, long way off, but this road turned south toward the Fire Country borders.

Sakura, sensing that the end for them was near, rallied for a few last questions.

"I wasn't sure you'd make it this time." She peeked over at him "You seemed so…different the last time I saw you."

"Oh…." Katsuro realized she meant at the festival. He was a mess then, no doubt. "Uh…I was just really…uh, really tired. I guess I was acting pretty weird huh?" He shot her a quick grin, but it didn't reach his eyes.

Sakura was sure there was more to the story, but a spasm shot through her ribs, robbing her of breath.

She stopped and held her side. Just held it. Katsuro couldn't understand why until he saw the sputtering light just at the edges of her fingers. It flared once then snuffed out completely.

It was enough to make breathing easier. But not much else. Sakura plastered on a smile. Katsuro frowned, completely unconvinced.

She continued walking, making it nearly to the fork before stopping again. Speaking softly to herself, Sakura calculated the distance she still had to go. Then her shoulders drooped.

"I think," she slowly scanned the area, "I think I'll rest here before heading back down. I have a few cracked ribs and—"

Katsuro looked aghast. "I'm not going to just leave you out here!"

A tired smile flickered across Sakura's face. "It's no problem. Once I replenish my chakra, then I can mitigate the injuries and movement will be a lot easier—"

Katsuro shook his head firmly. "Didn't you say that the longer a wound is untreated, the harder it is to heal?"

Ignoring her confused look, he stepped closer and gently lifted up her arm. He twisted it slightly, slipping his hand up her smooth forearm and stopping at her elbow. He ran his thumb over the long pink scar hidden below the crease of her arm.

Sakura bit her lip and watched his hand. His thumb moved in a featherlight strokes, and his palm was warm around her arm.

Katsuro looked at the mark, the scar _he_ had left her with after the trek up that mountainside two years before. She needed him now, just as then. He could make the difference. Something slipped into place in his chest.

_He'd make everything right. It was terrifying, but he knew what he had to do. _

Katsuro looked up at her with hard determination. His eyes flashed blue in the reflected moonlight.

"I'm not going to leave you. I'll get you…" his voice hitched, "home…. Even if I have to carry you."

Sakura laughed softly. "Don't be silly. I'm fine." She pulled her arm back, waved him off and began walking. But after just a few steps she was forced to stop again. And this time there was no disguising it: She was exhausted.

Sakura leaned her hand on a tree, but it looked like she might slip off at any moment.

Katsuro's eyes brimmed with concern…and resolve.

"Please, let me carry you," he repeated, this time more firmly. "I can carry you, then you can rest, then that Tsunade lady can fix everything, just like you said. right?"

She held her rib cage and shook her head, but he insisted. "Please. Let me do this for you."

Sakura frowned at the idea, even though she was swaying on her feet. Katsuro smiled. He understood her. It wasn't in her nature to rely on someone else.

"Sakura-chan, if we were teammates, wouldn't I be helping you home? Any way I could?"

She curled her hair behind her ear. Katsuro's smile grew.

"C'mon. We'll do it together." He turned around, offering her his back.

Sakura blew out a low breath, clearly putting her pride aside. Katsuro gently hoisted her up.

She sagged comfortably against him, proving to Katsuro that she was in far worse shape then she let on.

But she breathed deeply, and Katsuro was suddenly aware of her soft curves, molding into his back. He shifted his grip, trying not to hold her too tightly, but he was alive to every inch of her touching against him The first sparks of an entirely new kind of heat kindled inside.

He stamped it out.

"Tell me about…." He cleared his throat, realizing he hadn't quite formed a sentence in his mind before he started speaking. "Uh…. Tell me about what happened again."

Sakura pressed her cheek against his shoulder and sighed. "Well, those guys ambushed me…. I thought the other two were thieves. But they were just there to wear me out. And when the third showed up, I was almost out of chakra." Her voice was full of regret. " I'd probably be a goner if you hadn't shown up."

"Did they say what they wanted?"

"No," he heard the frown in her voice, "no they didn't. But the one guy knew who I was—"

"He said your name?"

She shook her head, dragging tendrils of hair across his neck. "No." She paused. "He knew my hair…."

Katsuro's body temperature spiked. His cheeks went red with anger. He could imagine what Wei would have said to her—

"It's ok. It's no big deal," she said, smoothing a hand over his hot shoulder. "But he was serious about killing me. He killed the other one just to get to me. He'd gotten in the way."

"Bastard," Katsuro hissed.

"He must have known me from the other missions." She shrugged and turned her face against his shoulder.

"How would he have known you?"

"Word-of-mouth, I suppose. It wasn't really a secret that I was handling these missions. Even though I didn't do a whole lot." She hitched her shoulders again. "I don't know, must have been someone with an interest in one of the deals. Maybe a jilted clan or businessman."

"So," he tried not to sound too desperate, "what did you do on these missions. Exactly." She didn't answer. He panicked. "I mean, I thought you were there to be a medic, so…was I wrong?"

He knew he was wrong. And he was hoping she would correct him, the she would say something, anything. But maybe she'd seen right through him. He must have sounded really desperate. "Or, you know…. Like when you healed that kid on that very first mission—"

Sakura finished a long, silent yawn. Katsuro nearly stumbled in relief. "Yeah, but that was just in my spare time. I did extra stuff when I could. But that wasn't what they hired me to do."

"Ah. So, what was it they hired you to do?" He listened hard.

"Well, I was there for protection. That's the short answer. I was there as a representative of Konoha to help them enforce their rules and alliances."

Katsuro looked hard at the woods in front of him, not seeing any of it. His false idea of Sakura was coming into line with this new picture. She was the one they were after. It had to be. "Oh, I see…."

"Yeah, so…." She continued on as if he should have always known exactly what she was doing. She oversaw their alliances, standing at meetings as a silent representative of Konoha. Which carried it's own weight, she supposed, but she was sure to never interfere. Just offer protection. She listed out a smattering of places she'd visited. Katsuro's eyes went wide.

"But that would mean that you were visiting towns all over the territories," he said, desperate to find a way he could be wrong. "And I don't remember you visiting those—"

"Oh, a lot of them I visited on the way home. I usually had two or three assignments each time I went out. Sometimes a lot more." She laughed. "It feels like I went everywhere last summer."

Katsuro rubbed a hand down his face. How could he have been so stupid?

She misinterpreted the movement. "Are you getting tired? Do you need to rest?"

"No," he said quietly. "I'm good."

Which was a bald lie. The pieces were all falling into place with sickening clarity. He saw it all. And she had no idea….

"Well, Tsunade thinks there might be something more going on, one of other countries is on the move…but I haven't seen any evidence of it. You haven't seen anything like that? Have you?"

"No, not at all," he said softly. Katsuro was glad she couldn't see his face. It made lying a little easier. And there was nothing left to do but lie.

"You deal with some pretty shady characters. But do you ever cross paths with any other shinobis?"

"No…. Only shady characters, like you said. Thieves and thugs."

"So you do still…steal? Like in those ambushes"

"Uh…yeah," he said quietly. _For now._

She was silent too. Long enough that Katsuro thought she might be nodding off.

"Do you still…. Does Itachi still run your group?"

Katsuro paused. "I don't know." He thought about the events of the past few days. "I'm not that close to him anymore."

"Oh."

She lapsed into a thoughtful silence. Katsuro pressed his advantage, afraid he might give something away if she kept questioning him. "Why don't you try to get some rest."

She sighed and agreed, turning her head and breathing against his neck. "You're warm," she said softly. Her hair slipped over his shoulder and she adjusted herself more comfortably against his back.

Katsuro tried not to think about it. But he couldn't ignore the soft warmth of her against him. It was an unexpected solace in the face of everything else that had happened.

He knew every variety of scalding heat. He knew the telltale simmer in his chest when he was concerned, and the blistering burn in his muscles when he fought. And he had a fairly good idea what it must feel like to burn alive, remembering his few times at the demon's gate.

But the soothing heat of her body curling around his was completely new. He never knew it could be so wonderful, so soft and warm. He breathed into it, feeling the fullness of being so completely trusted, so completely accepted.

She breathed deeply too, and gently pressed her cheek against his shoulder, squeezing him a little tighter.

A small smile touched his lips. _Maybe she feels the same._ He brushed his fingertips over her leg in response.

She was silent and unmoving for a while. Katsuro thought she drifted off, but she roused to ask another question.

"So, what exactly is your power?" She cleared her throat, her voice thick and drowsy. "Is it a bloodline? Or was that some kind of jutsu? I'd never felt anything like it—"

"You felt something?"

"Yeah," she sighed, "like a big rush of power. It was, um…overwhelming."

Katsuro knew what she withheld. The feeling was _sickening_. His true power, the demon's chakra, rolled off of him in waves, assaulting those around him with a feeling of dread. A deep, inescapable terror. Only they didn't know why.

The first sign was always nausea. He never let it go farther than that.

"I didn't notice." He forced himself to sound casual. "Must have been the other guy."

Sakura didn't answer. Maybe she was searching for something else to say. Maybe it was enough. He didn't know…and it didn't matter anyway. A few moments later her breathing modulated, and she was asleep.

He followed the road down, down, till he saw the old stone marker at Fire Country border, tilting out at an angle, weeds high around it.

He paused. Sakura breathed softly. He knew what he said, promising to take her "home." And he meant to do it. He'd get her to that damn place. Close, but not too close….

He just didn't realize how deep and firm and alive those old fears still were. Not just of Konoha but of the whole Fire Country as well. Time had not dimmed it.

Katsuro drew in a low breath trying to quell the nervous energy. Surprisingly, the normally malicious warmth in his mid-section moved with him. And when pushed off, leaving the pale marker behind him and crossing the border he swore he'd never cross again, he had the strange sensation of being in harmony with the demon's chakra for the second time that night. He couldn't account for it. But it did make him feel better.

He moved quickly and quietly down through the Fire Country. Past sleeping farms where the only movement was the swinging of cow tails, the only sound an occasional dog bark. Past rolling blue fields ringed by scrubby woodlands.

Sakura slept soundly on his shoulder. The landscape was peaceful, but his nervousness didn't let him feel any of it. It was unsettling coming back into this land of his birth and see it through a stranger's eyes. In his mind, the place was a trap. And any piece of it might snag him and pull him under. But nothing emerged from the serene landscape to capture him.

The farms were large and productive. Well maintained and stocked enough to provide trade with a large shinobi village. They clearly enjoyed the bountiful wealth of the Konoha, as well as it's protection. The farmlands he saw in the territories were thinly produced and the farmers were suspicious. Their lives were tough, and their yields moreso. But here beneath the low half moon, the Fire Country looked positively bucolic.

A breeze ruffled his bangs. Sakura sighed. Tipping his head to the side, he saw her hair had fallen over her cheek. He reached up and gently brushed it back. She didn't stir.

He let his fingers linger on her cheek, and just enjoyed the warm weight of her, and the fact that he had someone to care for. It was intoxicating. She trusted him. Completely.

She relied on him. And no one relied on him. She needed him when no one did. She believed in him—

But he was bound to disappoint her. He dropped his hand back to her leg. At least he could do this one thing for her — he could get home.

A dog barked nearby. Katsuro turned sharply at the sound. The warmth in his chest moved with him again. Not quite burning up his insides, but instead surrounding him, insulating him. Ready to protect him from advancing shinobi…or stray dogs.

Ahead, the great forest ran in a black line on the horizon. He moved steadily toward it.

Katsuro had studied the maps and terrains of all the territories, as Itachi thought it was prudent for him to at least know the geographic location of the other shinobi villages. For him, they were all the enemy. But he never mentioned Konoha. He didn't have to. Katsuro had never been able to scrub the location out of his mind.

But as it turned out, that awful knowledge had come in handy. Now, with Sakura dead asleep on his shoulder, he still knew exactly which direction to go.

He slipped soundlessly across the last fields and disappeared into the dark, enveloping woods. Somewhere in there, he knew he'd find Konoha.

Sakura didn't move. He could barely breathe. He slipped past the first line of large tree trunks, sure there would be shinobis lurking just inside the tree line. But none appeared.

So he started watching for other shinobi traps, trip wires or look-out posts. But there were none. He even pinched himself once to make sure he hadn't walked through a genjutsu haze without realizing it. It hurt enough to assure him his senses weren't deadened by a genjutsu.

So he trekked deeper. Before long he picked out a shinobi trail. In dark shadows he followed it, always staying a safe distance away in case he was spotted. But he never encountered a soul.

Which made him irrationally mad. Were they so arrogant, with their thick walls that they weren't concerned about defense? Who did they think they were? That they were so powerful that they were immune to attack. They could hide behind their walls, let their "impervious chakra" defense do the work.

Padding through the black forest, he raced through memories of that village, ones he hadn't thought of in years. He went further and further until the ground softened under his feet.

Sakura shifted on his back with a stirring sigh. Katsuro slowed.

The ground was indeed much softer here. Trees ringed them like a room. And it had grown dark. Very dark. _Shit._ He'd been watching the grey strip of path. But maybe he was already in the shadow of the wall—

"We are we?" Sakura said tiredly.

"Uh…we're close. I think."

Sakura slid off his back and gingerly checked her ribs. "Still sore, but they've set."

Katsuro watched her in the dim light, trying to ignore the cold air slipping over his back, stealing the warmth from where Sakura's body had been.

She peered hard into the darkness, then out at the strip of grey path far beyond the columns of trees. She took a few steps around. The moss of the ground was very thick. _Good for concealing footsteps…._

But her face brightened with recognition. "Yes. I know exactly where we are. Konoha's walls aren't far from here."

Katsuro looked away. _Then this was were they parted._ He stepped back into the deeper darkness.

Sakura read his movements and understood instantly. "Please," she whispered, reaching for him, "please, don't…."

Katsuro stopped. Pale light framed Sakura's face. She was so heartbreakingly beautiful—

"Please don't go back." Sakura reached for the edge of his cloak. "Stay here…. Come home with me. It can be your home too…."

She looked desperate. He thought she looked the way he felt. And he couldn't move.

"_Katsuro…._"

He snapped out of his trance. Katsuro shook his head and backed away from her grasp. "No. I told you. I can't," he said roughly.

Sakura frowned and wrapped her arms around her middle.

"Why?" She pleaded. "What's keeping you with them? Nothing! If you stayed with me, I'd be your partner. I'd keep you safe. And I'd protect you from _them_."

But he still shook his head no.

"I'm finished with these solo missions. Done. I won't be able to leave on my own anymore."

Katsuro looked away, wounded by her words. But he still said nothing.

"Don't you see?" Sakura's eyes shined with tears. "After this, I won't be able to see you again!"

Katsuro nodded his head miserably.

_He knew. He knew. _

"Then this is it?! This is the end?" Sakura said, incredulous tears spilling down.

His face said it all.

Sakura was suddenly angry. "Don't you even care?"

Katsuro shut his eyes. He didn't have words enough to tell her how much he cared….

"You're just going to choose them over me? I'd…. I'd do anything for you!"

This only made him feel more wretched. Because he felt the same. He'd do anything for her…. _And that's why it has to be this way._

"I'll keep you safe! Just come home with me!"

He raked his fingers through his hair. There was nothing he can say. His whole life was a lie. And he didn't want to lie any more. This time, he wanted to tell the truth.

"Please, just stay—"

He'd never found the right words…. But he could show her.

In a swift movement, Katsuro stepped forward, clamped his hands around her arms and crushed his mouth to hers. Sakura's eyes went wide. Her voice died. But she softened her mouth against his and returned his kiss.

It was salty with tears, desperate and sweet. Sakura's fingertips found Katsuro's damp cheeks. It seemed to set him ablaze. He slipped an arm around her waist, plunged a hand up into the cool silk of her hair and slanted his mouth over hers. Sakura instinctively tilted her head, deepening the kiss.

Her soft hands slipped around to the back of his neck. She tangled her fingers through his hair, kissing him deeply, letting her body drift into his.

Katsuro wrapped his arms around her, pinning her to him. He moaned softly against her mouth, and a sudden rush of warm air spiraled around them. It skittered up her throat and curled up the edges of her hair. Tears stung her eyes again, even as she moved her mouth with his. This swirling warmth was all him. It made her want to never let go.

"Please," she pleaded between kisses. "Please stay..."

"I can't," he whispered, breath hot on her lips. There were no words to explain it. It was all lies. He pulled her closer, as if to drive out all the distance between them. _Maybe if they were close enough, nothing could come between them. It's still just the two of them. And they were still ok._

"It could be so good here," she pressed.

She was so earnest it ached inside him. His resolve slipped a notch, and the idea flickered to life. That everything would be alright. That she would just fold him into her life, the one he knew so well from her stories. That it could be his life too—

"Please…. _Katsuro_…."

The name jarred him. That was who she knew. That was who she wanted. _A disguise._

He kissed her again, hard. It was raw and tasted of tears. But it couldn't shut out the truth.

"Sakura, I…I…." His voice was hoarse. "I just can't."

She pulled back. "If you can't stay, then…then…_I'll find you!_" He shook his head and tried to silence her with another kiss but she dodged it. "I won't stop! I'll find you! I don't care who you're with—"

"No. You can't. It's too dangerous." He closed his eyes and brought his forehead to hers. "Just stay in your village. Don't look for me."

She pulled back, ready with another protest that he knew would twist his heart in his chest. She'd never give up. He knew she wouldn't. So he held her firmly to him and made a snap decision.

He had to do it. And he hated it.

"I'll…. I'll come," he said wretchedly, never opening his eyes.

"What?" Sakura gasped. "You will? You'll come home with—"

"No." He shook his head slowly. "I'll come to _you_. Don't look for me. I'll…I'll find you." He said it as if the words were hurting him. She whimpered in soft misunderstanding. Katsuro felt horrible. "I-I promise."

He pulled her into his embrace and buried his head in her hair, stealing every touch and memorizing every inch of her.

"Ok," she said over his shoulder. "Ok. Just promise. Promise me that you'll come." Her voice was thick with tears.

"I promise. I promise." Katsuro grew more sure of himself. "I'll come to you. I'll find you. Just stay here. Your team is strong right?" He pulled back to look into her face. She nodded emphatically. "Always, _always_, stay with them. Never go out alone again. And I'll come, I promise."

"Ok, just promise."

He'd promise her anything just to make it alright. Happy to have words that gave her some comfort, he repeated the words into her hair, between kisses on her tear-slicked cheeks, over and over until he didn't know what he was promising anymore.

Katsuro pulled her into his embrace, trying to memorize the feeling of her in his arms. Telling himself to go, but knowing, _knowing _that leaving her was the last thing he wanted to do.

He squeezed tighter, never wanting to let her go— but his embrace cut right across her hurt ribs.

Sakura shrieked suddenly and arced into him. He let go in an instant, but her involuntary cry was loud enough to echo off the trees around them.

From the direction of Konoha, shouts rang out in response.

Sakura turned, her profile illuminated in cold blue from the shinobi path. "A patrol unit…."

He cupped her cheek, running a thumb over her soft skin.

"Sakura," he breathed.

She turned quickly, leaning into his caress, and covered her hand with his.

"Katsuro…. I…."

The patrollers voices rang out closer.

With a growl of frustration he tore himself out of her grasp and backed away.

"I— I'm sorry, Sakura," he said, eyes hard and shining in the darkness. "I'm so sorry."

Sakura opened her mouth to speak, but whatever she might have said was swept under by the shouts of the patrollers.

_"Who goes there? Show yourself!"_

Beams of light stabbed through the black woods around them.

Sakura spun and called with a tremulous gulp, "Hey! Over here!"

She was distracting them. This was his only chance. He silently slipped back into the shadows of the treeline and waited.

"Over here! It's only…." Her voice cracked. "It's only _me_," she said, choking back tears.

Her trembling words ripped through Katsuro. But it worked: The shafts of light pinpointed on Sakura.

"Haruno-san! You just getting in? Whattya doin' out here—"

"Oi! Can't you see she's hurt? C'mon, you need some help?"

"Yeah," she said thickly. "Thanks."

The sound of voices and footsteps faded away.

Katsuro scrubbed an arm over his face, pushed off from the tree and disappeared into the darkness.

She had done it. She'd made an opening for him to get away safely. He should be grateful….

He picked up speed, moving faster and faster, trying leave the heartache behind in that soft hidden spot in the woods. But it clung to him, no matter how fast he went, hurting with each breath.

_This was it. There were no more goodbyes for them. There was no more 'them.'_

_Now it was just her. _

_And him. _

He grit his teeth against a choking sob, swiped away more tears, and pushed harder.

The trees glimmered faintly red. He didn't fight it. But even the demon's malicious chakra couldn't wipe away the pain.

_What could he tell her. The truth? No. But lying to her felt just as bad. _

_He knew he'd break those promises even as he said them. _

_He wasn't coming to her. Ever. _

_Everything he'd said…. It was all a lie. _

_This was the end._

What she didn't know, what he could never ever tell her was that miles away, across the darkened landscape, was a sack of scrolls that had written out their fates.

Itachi had ordered Wei to kill her.

And he'd ordered Katsuro to undo all her missions.

Once he knew it was her, the slim map in his sack filled in the rest of the picture. The line of hold-outs, her missions, were dashed off in thick red lines. They were his jobs now, and they ran through the center of the map like a wound, cracking it in half. For them, it was an unbridgeable gulf.

At the edge of the great woods, something grabbed Katsuro's ankle. He twisted his leg and kicked hard, the kyubbi's chakra flooding him. He kicked so hard that when the obstacle suddenly released, Katsuro went flying out into the high grass of a pasture.

He quickly righted thinking _trip wire, bo staff, hidden shinobis_…. Instead he saw the jittering end of a broken branch. Katsuro shook his head, then shook his pant leg. Splintered wood fell from a new rip near his ankle.

He growled in frustration and popped his head up for a quick look around to see if there really was anyone else there at all. A few cows looked up, tails swinging cautiously, but they quickly deemed him no threat and dropped their heads, ignoring him.

Katsuro dusted himself off. He'd wait a moment, just to be sure.

Sakura was probably already inside Konoha by now, being healed. Everyone so glad to see her….

_Sakura…._

He had completely underestimated her. He shook his head. She had helped fortify the small towns against their unknown threat. And she had done an excellent job.

He smirked, snapping the wood splinters in his hand. She had become a thorn in Itachi's side, and she didn't even know it.

So Wei was to kill her, and Katsuro was to follow up and "persuade" others to their cause. Either with bribes or by force.

Katsuro narrowed his eyes. This also meant that Itachi probably didn't know about him and Sakura. He just saw her as the Konoha shinobi who got away last time. Itachi wanted to make sure she met her end and — since Katsuro had failed last time — he sent Wei.

But disguised as Sasuke, Katsuro bought back her life. And he knew Itachi: His conceited pride would be thrilled that Sasuke had thwarted Wei, their best assassin.

And though Sakura was still alive, the mission technically had not failed. She was certainly out of the picture. Now Katsuro could move in and do his part of the job. And he would.

Sakura was still depending on him, although she'd never know it. By fulfilling these missions, Katsuro would make sure Itachi never suspected her.

Katsuro took one last look at the dark woods, knowing what was hidden deep inside.

He hated that village. He hated it's power and everything it stood for. He hated what it had done to him. But if that place kept her safe, then he was grateful for it.

As long as she stayed inside Konoha's walls she'd be alright.

The thought buoyed him. He scrubbed away the tracks of tears, turned and pushed off hard, pumping warm chakra to his legs. He moved faster and faster across the fields. That strange harmony returned, energizing him when he should have been exhausted. But he didn't have time to dwell on it.

He swept his gaze across the horizon. He had months and months of work ahead of him. Yet he'd do it all gladly.

He'd do everything Itachi asked of him.

And he'd do it to protect her.

The dark sky behind him was fading. The moon was gone from the sky. And he still had the scroll to get to Rain by nightfall. Katsuro lowered his head and pushed on.

* * *

**Author's notes:**

At long last…. Sorry about the wait. But to make up for it it's a huge chapter. Even by my standards! lol. But I didn't want to skimp on the fight and kissing scenes. The Jizo and diplomat scenes I'd already written a long time ago, so I didn't want to let go of those…. Combine that with writing in little bits over the last several months, and you have a really long chapter! But I hope you enjoy….

I can't remember who I've responded to and who I've not from last chapter, so if I didn't pm you personally, let me just tell you thanks so much for your review. It means a lot, more than you realize. (btw, Bravo Mike Sierra, thanks for the review. I'm thrilled to know that my writing brings back memories of Japan. I'm trying to write authentically, so your review made me very happy!)

Let me know what you think of this chapter. The fight scenes and the romance. Which one did you like better? *smirk* No wait, I can guess! lol. Anyway, read and review. I'd love to hear what you think! And as always, check the website swirling petals dot com for more notes and updates! :)

* * *

**Chapter notes:**

• the Jizo statues — the inspiration for the Jizos are from the Sanzen-in Temple in Kyoto and the Freer Gallery in Washington DC.

• Katsuro in the Stone Forest — the inspiration for this landscape comes from the Stone Forest in China. I made it a lot more desolate and barren for Katsuro though! :) It is meant to be the opposite of Sakura's experience.

• _A foot slid into the stream, and fresh water rushed over the top of his boot. "Dammit," he muttered, sloshing onto a steadier rock and kicking out the water._ — Opposite of Sakura happily kicking dew off the toes of her shoes. Katsuro is soggy and miserable.

• _He knew this was the life of a shinobi. His life, the one he so desperately wanted as a child. But damn if he didn't wish he could change it…just for a moment._ — In the manga, Naruto never has to choose between desire and obligation. But Katsuro does. So here he still has his same beliefs, but his choices come with tough sacrifices.

• _The wax seals were thick, meant only to be opened by the recipient. Katsuro knew the rules — never, never, never open a scroll…it ruined the deception — but was far beyond caring. He ruthlessly tore them open, scouring each one then ripping open the next._ — Again, a big point is made in the manga to never open scrolls. But Katsuro's loyalty is to Sakura, not anyone or anything else. So he snaps them open without hesitation.

• _He pushed hard off the last cliff, letting the chakra swirl down his legs. The rock cracked from the force. But he stayed focused on the trees ahead, aiming for the biggest branch, he— Suddenly the trees were coming too fast._ — So Katsuro doesn't realize how much power the kyuubi's chakra contains. This whole event pushes him to use more and more. Awakening a new level of understanding of his own powers.

• _"Never underestimate a kunoichi. Do you know why? Because they're women…or girls. As the case may be…." He unsnapped his cloak with a flourish, folded it and set it on the ground. "They know they have been dealt the weaker hand. So they have everything to lose." He smirked. "You should expect a fight to the death."_ — So first off, Wei's just a jerk. He'll say anything to provoke anyone. His specialty is knowing what sets people off, to bribe them or defeat them. Second, the bit about the fighting was from a combat expert talking about his opponents. He always took the smaller man more seriously because he knew the deck was stacked against him. And he was ready to give that much more to win. Same applies to women.

• _His guest, a handsome man in cream silks, flashed him a broad, curving smile. "Yes it is a very unique opportunity…." The guest's smile grew wider, rippling up a dashing half-moon scar at the top of his cheek._ — All the traits describing the handsome politician from the cherry blossom festival. The diplomat and the politician aren't bad, just middlemen who are being manipulated. And they have no idea what's going on with Sakura, btw.

• _Poised over a plate of peach buns, the cream sleeve of the guest stilled for a moment. … The guest relaxed and gathered up the length of fabric from the arm of his silk robe to reach over the buns for another temptation._ — So, when Sakura was attending the diplomat at the cherry blossom festival, the handsome politician chose a peach bun for her. But in this instance, he is passing over the peach bun for another temptation. Figuratively, he's found a better offer than what he thought Sakura had.

• _Once he knew it was her, the slim map in his sack filled in the rest of the picture. The line of hold-outs, her missions, were dashed off in thick red lines. They were his jobs now, and they ran through the center of the map like a wound, cracking it in half. For them, it was an unbridgeable gulf. _— So the color red is like a little "red thread of fate," but theirs is twisted. The red of the tassels and the red dashes on the map. Both have to do with them, but the connotations aren't so good.

• _Sakura was still depending on him, although she'd never know it. By fulfilling these missions, Katsuro would make sure Itachi never suspected her. _— Katsuro doesn't realize it, but he is making the "silent sacrifice" to Sakura that she made to those kids and to protect Sasuke back in the beginning. Katsuro though it was foolish the, but now he's doing it too, and gladly.

• _As long as she stayed inside Konoha's walls she'd be alright._ — a twist on his development. He used to hate Konoha's walls, but now he doesn't think they're such a bad thing, especially if they keep her saf


	32. Shattered

**32 - Shattered**

Sasuke stood in the sun outside the Hokage tower. The edge of a mission scroll curled around his hand, catching the light of the first truly seasonable day of spring. Everything seemed brighter. For the first time in, well, as long as he could remember, he felt almost…okay.

The warm air had lured everyone out-of-doors. People were walking, smiling and chatting in the sun. Kids were everywhere, tearing up and down the lanes. Sasuke walked slowly away from the tower toward the busy mesh of village streets. Merchants were setting up stalls outside their shops, further crowding the already-narrow roads.

But the gaggle of village kids didn't care. They danced around the shoppers and the hid behind the carts, throwing sticks like kunai, laughing and taunting each other. Their voices ricocheted off down the intersecting lanes.

Sasuke watched one scrawny boy eyeing the other suspiciously. He had a bright red ball tucked under his arm. And it was drawing a lot of attention. The kids were working hard on separating the ball from it's owner. But when coaxing, then threats failed to work, a pair of older boys resorted to stealth. One positioned himself in front to tease and distract, while another crept around behind.

Sasuke quirked an eyebrow. The boy with the ball was outwitted, and he didn't even know it.

And sure enough, before the boy even realized what was going on, the ball was popped out from under his elbow and sent careening down another lane.

The boy's face was so comically downtrodden that Sasuke smiled without even thinking about it. The rest of the group shot off down the lane while the boy trudged after, grimacing with each whoop and holler. Sasuke trailed behind, slightly curious to see how the boy would go about getting his precious toy back, when suddenly the throng of kids came tearing back out of the lane and stopped in front of him.

Arms upstretched, they laughed and pleaded up at some unseen source. The scrawny kid regained all hope. He bounced among them, arms flailing as if he knew this was his one chance to get his ball back. Sasuke relaxed enough to smirk broadly at the group. They were all still giggling, so they knew they weren't in trouble. Probably just being teased by someone bigger or stronger—

A familiar feminine laugh rung out over the childish giggles.

Sasuke's smirk fell. He only had a moment to step behind a merchant's cart when Sakura came into view holding the red ball high over her head and laughing at the boys, her green eyes dancing. The boys oh'd and aw'd, but they clearly relished the attention from the pretty ninja.

She bounced the ball from hand to hand, smiling and taunting them. A few ducked around to knock the ball from behind as they'd done to get it the first time, but Sakura smoothly lifted her arm and let the boys collide into each other. This sent up more raucous howls of laughter.

"See anything that tempts you?" a low voice sounded at Sasuke's elbow.

Sasuke wheeled around, frowning thunderously at the old man who had apparently snuck up beside him. He flicked his eyes up to the wooden sigh overhead — a grocer — and realized this was the owner of the cart he'd chosen to…well, hide out at.

Sasuke cleared his throat. "Just looking," he said quickly and laid his hand out over the selection of fruit piled onto the cart as if still inspecting before a purchase.

"Ah. Well let me know if you need anything." The man disappeared inside the doorway of his store.

Sasuke continued his false perusal and cast his eyes to Sakura, who was bouncing the ball higher and higher with little pushes of chakra. The boys watched in awe. Only the scrawny one still swatted for his toy when it came back down.

Sasuke knew it was pathetic. He shouldn't hide from _her_, of all people, and in his own village. But he didn't really want to see her. He shifted his weight and the scroll bumped gently against the few coins in his pocket. _As if he needed to be reminded why…._

The Hokage had finally been cleared to give him missions outside the village. And she'd said that Sakura's little speech to the council had a lot to do with it. Tsunade went on to tell him he should be grateful to his team, and she expected him to work harder with them. She stopped short of ordering him to find someway to connect with them, but the message was clear.

And on his way out, she offered him a little advice. "Share your news with Sakura. She'll be happy to hear about it." Sasuke bowed respectfully, but left without comment. Because he knew his answer.

Even as Sakura stood in front of him, presenting the perfect opportunity that Tsunade had been urging him so strongly to seek out. He knew he wasn't going to share his news with her.

This was _his_ triumph, and he planned to selfishly keep it to himself. Just as she had done when he'd questioned her about Itachi…. She refused to answer. It still stung him. And it solidified his decision now.

He let his hand drop to the edge of the cart and watched her from under hooded eyes.

The scrawny kid grabbed at the ball, desperation clear in his big eyes. Sakura must have seen it too because she leaned out over the group and returned it to him, making sure it was safely in his arms before letting go. She tousled his hair, smiling. But the boy didn't notice at all. He held the ball tightly to his chest and without a word of thanks dashed off down the lane. The other boys tore off behind him, the pretty ninja forgotten. She laughed after them, then turned away to continue her stroll.

She'd never even noticed Sasuke at the edge of the cart.

"So…. See anything you like?"

The old merchant peered up, an unmistakeable twinkle in his old black eyes.

Sasuke fished in his pocket past the scroll and pulled out a coin. He pressed it into the man's leathery hand. "I'll take an apple."

"An excellent choice."

Sasuke plucked up a particularly red one and walked down the lane toward the river.

He had been avoiding Sakura for a while. Hell, he couldn't remember a time when he didn't avoid her. Or anyone else from Team 7.

But it was Sakura who was particularly troublesome. He felt like she was hiding something. And whatever it was had happened out there when she was captured by Itachi.

It was a miracle she'd come back, Kakashi had said so himself. And that's why it just didn't add up…. She thought she'd been abandoned. She _knew_ it. And he could hear it in her voice that night, crying out desperately in the darkness….

Sasuke looked out at the shimmering river without seeing it. His thoughts slipped back to that night….

He was thrumming through the trees, hearing a whisper, then a twig snap. His sharingan wheeled effortlessly to life. He couldn't distinguish shapes, but he could discern two chakras close together. Very close together. Then her anguished cry.

He nearly fell off the branch. He and Sai spiraled closer. But only Sasuke heard her voice.

"_Why? Why drag this out? Why don't you just kill me and get it over with?!"_

She was begging for her life. Or rather throwing it all away. She had just told her captor to kill her.

He remembered the voice that responded in the darkness. It was just as desperate as hers. "I'm not going to…."

Sasuke suddenly realized what that rogue was saying: He wasn't going to kill her.

_How could he have missed it!_ The guy was taking her out to let her go. But she didn't know it. Her captor — the guy Sasuke fought tooth and nail, the one who had caught her and taunted him — had taken pity on her.

Puzzle pieces fell into place. She had probably been just as strong, just as irritatingly stubborn as she usually was. She had resolved not to give in to Itachi. And someone there — probably that same guy — took an interest in her and decided to help her out.

In that light, her survival made sense. Kakashi had always said there was more to the story. And he agreed. But she refused to speak about any of it.

Birds landed in the river, shattering the diamond ripples. Sasuke looked down at the apple clamped in his hands, remembering where he was. He bit into it, barely noticing it's juicy snap, and slowly began walking again.

Sakura may have refused to talk about Itachi, but there were a few things she had revealed. Itachi had spoken to her, at length. All lies, she'd said. But she must have believed one of them. Sakura thought she'd been left behind, abandoned by her team and village. She thought _he'd_ left her out there, to die by his brother's hands.

And yet, she didn't give up—

Team 8 crossed the bridge ahead of him. Sasauke watched them, careful to avoid eye contact and thus some awkward acknowledgment. He needn't have worried: Worn out from a mission, they weren't stopping for anyone's greetings. Scrolls in hand, they continued on toward the Hokage's tower.

But Sasuke considered them as he kept going, passing the bright red bridge. Would one of them do what Sakura did? Die for the other teammate after they thought they'd been willfully abandoned?

No, he thought firmly, probably not. He couldn't think of a single nin who would make that choice. But _she_ would. That was Sakura, tenacious to a fault. Once her mind was set on something, she'd never give it up. He knew without a doubt that she would have died for him.

Stupid girl, he thought, ruthlessly stamping out the thoughts of guilt that were rising at the thought of her sacrifice.

He took another bite of the apple. Perhaps Tsunade was right. Perhaps he ought to try harder, make room for her. Maybe even recognize her as a partner of sorts.

The idea was completely foreign to him. His life was lived alone. His shinobi path was alone. Even the council treated him as something to hidden away. Something to fear….

Not her though. He snorted at the thought and took another bite, wiping the juice off with the back of his hand. She had always shown a healthy respect for his skill. But never fear. She was the only one who had ever thrown a punch at him. Not chakra-laden, not well thought out. Just angry. He had to admit it was a pleasant distinction to know that she didn't see him as anything special. A small smile quirked up his lips at the irony of it all.

A passerby, a man of about his father's age, mistook the almost-smile. "Uchiha-san," he said bobbing his head courteously. He looked like he would have said more, but Sasuke nodded cooly and pushed on.

Chiding himself for letting his emotions show, Sasuke's thoughts drifted to the other member of their team. That expert in detached observation: Sai. Sasuke knew from the beginning that Sai was assigned to their group to monitor him. But his skill was admirable, so Sasuke accepted him as merely an ANBU babysitter placed on Team 7 by the council. Whatever his agenda was, he'd never revealed it.

But Sakura…there was no agenda there. Sasuke knew she barely tolerated him. That thought drove the corners of his mouth up. He took another bite to hide his smile. Truth be told, she annoyed him to no end. But for the first time, he saw something in her, something that he'd never noticed before.

Her loyalty and stubborn drive had proved more useful than any bloodline or secret clan technique. Better than Hinata's byakugan or TenTen's weapons, Sakura's strong will had carried her through. She simply never gave up.

The wide avenue beside the river was full of people walking and talking. But Sasuke was consumed with his own realizations. It was strange…. He had always prided himself on sizing up another's skill immediately, but somehow he'd missed what Sakura had to offer.

And it struck a jealous burn in him that his opponent recognized it immediately. The image of a young man scowling up from the rocks below instantly sprang to Sasuke's mind. He couldn't see hair or eye color, but the blaze on his face, hands curled into fists at his sides, was burned into his memory.

A slight breeze skimmed over the river, rippling sleeves and hems of clothes. It ruffled his sun-warmed hair.

A cluster of strolling citizens parted, and Sakura suddenly appeared down the lane. Sasuke registered her presence the same time her laughter hit his ears. He slowed without thinking.

She smiled brightly, accepted some small gift at a merchant's cart, then patted someone's arm in gratitude. An older woman came into view for a moment. She was probably a patient of Sakura's by the way the woman doted on her, smiling and handing over another sack. Sakura bowed graciously and waved farewell, turning off the avenue onto the next street which angled down in front of the hospital.

Sasuke watched her go, seeing everything in a completely different light. People loved her here. _She_ loved it here. And she would have willing given it all up. _For him._ She would have died, alone in the woods, believing he'd abandoned her. And no one would have ever known of her sacrifice. Hell, she still refused to tell him. He had to figure it all out for himself.

He didn't quite know how to feel. She was protecting him. And no one had ever protected him. He never needed it. But she did it anyway. When it was futile and pointless and no one would ever know. She stood up to Itachi, for him. And the council too, he supposed….

He thought about the guy in the woods. Her captor. It still pissed him off that an opponent discovered the special quality of someone who was right under his nose. But it didn't matter. Sakura was on his team. No one else's. For better or for worse. And for the first time, he felt a bit of pride in that.

Well, Tsunade would be happy, he thought wryly, and another small smile slipped to the surface. A mother walking with her children nodded politely at him. Sasuke nodded back without reserve. He felt almost…okay.

He savored the sweetness of the last bite of apple before tossing it into the river. Patting the scroll in his pocket, he decided he'd stay on the avenue and take the long way home. He wanted to enjoy the sunlight and warm air and hold onto the triumphant feeling a little longer.

* * *

Spring returned to the Leaf in all its green glory. The village was a hive of activity. Tradesmen and merchants rose earlier and worked later and busily restocked their wares.

But the village truly revolved around its shinobi. And like clockwork, training schedules ticked up, missions were assigned and there were little clusters of shinobis everywhere, all kitted out in fatigues and glinting headbands. The ting of the metalsmith's shop hammering out new weapons steadily chimed through the hours.

For Sakura, the clearest sign of the warming days was the flock of genin teams scrambling through the lanes on their first D-ranked missions. Their determination to complete the assignments often proved injurious, and many wound up in the hospital. Cat scratches were a prime wound, as were sliced palms from sliding out their shurikens carelessly. Kunai stabs to the feet rounded out the list.

Walking down the curved hall to Tsunade's office, she looked over her report scroll and laughed to herself. The number of reckless injuries had spiked. Only more of these to come with summer.

"Enter," Tsunade called out before Sakura knocked. She crossed the room and handed over the report.

"Have you spoken to your teammates lately," Tsunade asked, never looking up from the scroll.

"Uh, no? Should I have?"

"Just curious." She finished reading and rerolled the scroll. "Sasuke has been allowed out on missions." Tsunade looked up, a knowing smile on her face. "And I think we all know who's to thank for the council's change of heart."

"Oh!" Sakura's face suffused with pleased surprise.

"Limited missions of course, and accompanied by Sai, but they are assignments, nonetheless," Tsunade muttered distractedly as she tried to slide the report into a stack of scrolls, only to have them topple over. Tsunade's paperwork was also rising with the temperature.

Sakura smiled to herself as Tsunade searched through the pile of scrolls. She was pleased for Sasuke, even though she didn't say it. She didn't get along with him, and she didn't think she ever would. But he didn't deserve to be held back because of his brother. Besides, there was always the hope that missions of his own would make him easier to deal with—

"Here it is!" Tsunade held out a multi-tasseled scroll. "The Council wants to invite more foreign dignitaries for the summer festival. I don't know what they're thinking," she grumbled. "All the little towns have their own festivals. But the council is hellbent on outshining them all. But we can't just throw open our gates! We're a shinobi village!" Tsunade hunted another scroll. "So more ANBU are going to have to be called back in which will then cut into our missions, which will in turn…." Her voice trailed off, but occasional fragments of thoughts would surface, mutterings and cursings about how the council didn't understand security and that they wouldn't listen to her and what was taking Shizune so long and was it too early for sake—

"Tsunade-sama," Sakura plunged into her streaming monologue. "I was wondering if you'd given any thought to the girl I told you about." Tsunade blinked up at the question. "The one from the farm? The chakra sensor?"

"Ah. Yes." She tugged out a scroll only to frown and push it back into the pile.

"Well, I was wondering if you'd given any thought to my request to place her at the academy? I she might be still a little young, but…." Actually, Sakura _knew_ she was too young for the academy, by a few years. But she'd deal with that little detail later. "But she's out there in the territories, and as she gets older, more people are going to take notice of her, and—"

Tsunade shook her head, still sifting through scrolls. "You know as well as I do it's against village laws. They have to be Fire Country citizens before they are allowed entrance to the academy. Now, if they are interested in moving here…."

Sakura laughed. "Probably not. They have a farm and a home." She remembered the old farmer. He would scoff at the idea. "But perhaps if _I_ spoke for them, explained the situation—"

"Found it!" Tsunade unfurled a scroll with names and teams and locations and dates. One large column was listed simply with animal names. It was a scheduling list for the ANBUs.

Tsunade flattened a hand on the curling scroll and looked up, finally giving Sakura all her attention. "A petition from you would only make things harder. If the council even agreed to it, then there would be a mountain of paperwork. Not to mention a full disclosure of her skills. Plus a demonstration. And of course they'd expect her to enter into shinobi training right away, and if she's too young for academy…." Tsunade raised an eyebrow at Sakura, calling her out on that white lie. Sakura shifted uncomfortably, confirming it. "Then they'd put her right into Root."

Sakura looked queasy at the thought.

"I didn't think you'd be too thrilled with that idea," Tsunade said with a wry smile.

She drummed her fingers on the paper and continued. "I have bigger things to worry about right now. Just keep an eye on the girl. She's got a few years yet before she's academy age. Maybe they'll come round by then. That would be the easiest route. From everything you've said, it sounds like she's safe right where she is."

Sakura nodded, recognizing from her tone that she would not be budged.

"Enter!" Tsunade boomed, just before a knock sounded at the door. Only Sakura's long experience with the Hokage kept her from jumping. Shizune entered with another arm full of scrolls.

Tsunade narrowed her eyes at the delivery. "Excuse me Sakura, I need to check these." Shizune offered an apologetic grin as Sakura sidled out past her.

* * *

Flinging her weapons pouch onto the low wall, Sakura took a long drag out of her water canteen. She hitched up her ponytail, thankful for the cool air on her sticky neck, and swiped her hand over her mouth. She'd dearly love to lean against wall, but she knew the sun-warmed stones would only make her hotter.

Ino stepped up beside her, flopped down her pouch and threw back a few slugs from her own canteen. Sakura looked sideways at her, thinking she'd never come if she'd known how hot it would be. But Sakura kept her thoughts to herself. After all, it was her idea to spend their lunch break having a shuriken-throwing contest.

Mid-morning, Sakura had leaned on the nurses stand, sighing. "It's just too pretty a day to spend cooped up inside the hospital." Back to the brilliant sunlit window, Ino just shook her head. Sakura sighed again.

Actually, Sakura needed to get her mind off things…people…well, one person in particular. And the quiet afternoon at the hospital was driving her out of her mind. She tapped her finger on the high counter and decided that physical activity might do the trick. It was almost break time. Now if she could just get Ino to come with her….

Sakura sighed again. Ino rolled her eyes, her hair falling like liquid sunshine around her shoulders. She snapped a folder shut, sending dust motes sparkling up into the air around her. There wasn't another sound in the hall except the shuffling of her papers.

"It might be fun too—"

"No."

"You know we could—"

"Sakura, I'm working!"

"But it's almost time for our break!"

"Oh…."

Ino glanced back at the window. The blue sky above the trees was brilliant. Ino's shoulders drooped a little. She held the folder in her lap, forgotten.

Sakura sighed again, deeply, as if it were her last breath….

Ino spun back, smacking the folder on the nurse's stand.

"Alright, alright! I'll go with you! Geez, Sakura!" Sakura miraculously perked up and went to collect their weapons.

Now Ino stood beside her, cradling her hand melodramatically. Sakura noticed the sunlight was gone from her long blonde hair. It was frizzing with heat and exertion, and sweat had plastered darker strands to her forehead. But her cheeks were pink and Sakura could tell she was pleased.

Ino sucked the side of her finger from her wounded hand then held it out for Sakura to see, frowning. "I've got a callus now, thanks to you!"

Sakura hid her smile behind another swig from the canteen. Ino was just as fiercely competitive as they were when they were children. She didn't train as often as she should, but she was still good.

Sakura shielded her eyes from the sun and surveyed the damage they'd done to the posts. Three red circles were painted on the posts to match an opponents head, chest and groin. She'd managed to hit all the targets. Ino had come in a very close second.

A throaty chuckle sounded up the path. From the direction of the forest strolled Asuma and Kurenai, two jonins and longtime Konoha senseis. Asuma immediately waved at Ino — the strapping bearded man was sensei for Ino's Team. Kurenai had been Team 8's sensei.

"Well, you two look like you're making the most of the afternoon!" Asuma crowed, giving Ino a broad smile while not-so-subtly inspecting her post. He eyed the single star that missed, nodding significantly at the weapon sunk halfway into ground beyond the post. "Looks like someone's getting a little rusty," he ribbed, eyes twinkling.

"Asuma-sensei, it's not like that at all," Ino said, sounding very much like a younger version of herself. "I got distracted, it was too bright and—"

Asuma threw his head back for a belly laugh that echoed into the treetops. They couldn't help but smile with the infectious sound. Even Ino. Eventually.

"You're doing well," Kurenai said, nodding towards Sakura's pole. Shuriken spangled the three red circles. "Training with your team…?"

"No," Sakura said, clearing her throat. "I try to come out on my breaks. Helps me clear my head."

"I understand you have been training with Tsunade-sama as well?"

Sakura nodded. "Yes after my last…encounter," she faltered on the word, "we both thought it best. So she is showing me how to use my chakra more effectively against multiple attackers, not just one."

There was a note of pride in her voice. Tsunade had asked her to keep the lessons quiet, so no one would disturb them, but she'd made some great improvements.

Kurenai seemed to sense Sakura's upswell. "I'm sure her skills are well suited for you. I have known her to have a _smashing_ right hook when she puts her mind to it."

A small smile flickered on Sakura's face. Tsunade's right hook could cleave the ground in two. And that was exactly what she was teaching her.

Kurenai tipped her head closer. "Your sensei is very proud." Sakura's smile widened.

"Asuma-san!" A wiry young nin stood up the path, in the direction of the village, waving a small scroll. Asuma frowned and went to him. The others watched, making sure it was nothing urgent.

While they waited, Sakura stole a glance at the woman beside her. She had not spent very much time with Kurenai, but the raven-haired sensei was second in beauty to Tsunade. And every bit as formidable. Sakura knew her quiet demeanor was deceptive. Kurenai's crimson eyes held a bloodline ability which was rumored to rival the Uchiha's. Indeed, when she fixed her with that red-eyed gaze, Sakura had the feeling she was a sparrow being sized up by a hawk.

Seeing there was no need for concern, Kurenai swiveled her head back to Sakura. "So…how is the med-nin training going?"

"Great!" Sakura chirped brightly, afraid she'd been caught staring.

"Good, I'm glad to hear it—"

"Anything wrong Asuma-sensei?" Ino looked up worriedly as he approached. The other nin stood waiting.

"No, nothing serious. But I'm needed in the village."

"Then I'll head back with you," Ino said, quickly packing up her weapons. She strapped on her pouch and hopped over the low wall.

In a swift movement, Asuma leaned into Kurenai and whispered something in her ear. Sakura glanced up, about to bid farewell to Kurenai too, when Asuma pulled back, squeezed Kurenai's arm and grinned into her face. Kurenai smiled warmly, if not _warningly_ back at Asuma. His eyes glittered as he shot her a final saucy smile.

Sakura was about to look away, uncomfortably aware that she was witnessing something of a more personal nature…. When the tips of Kurenai's hair curled and danced around her throat. It was as if a sudden warm breeze had spiraled just around her.

Sakura's mouth fell open. She knew what she was seeing. She could practically feel the teasing wind curling around her own throat it was so deeply etched in her memory. She had never once thought about it happening to someone else.

Asuma strode off and the swirl of wind went with him. Still smiling, Kurenai turned back to Sakura, catching her gaping stare. Sakura snapped her mouth shut, but Kurenai was already fixing her with that penetrating gaze.

"Something the matter, Sakura?" she said, authority cutting through in her pleasant voice.

"No," she said too high.

Kurenai peered at her for a moment. Sakura looked everywhere else.

Thankfully Asuma interrupted, calling back from the woodline. "Do you want us to wait for you? I can if you want—"

"No thanks, go on ahead. I'll walk back with Sakura."

Sakura gulped but nodded her agreement. She quickly set about gathering her things, dropping a few shurikens in her haste. Shoving them roughly into the pouch, she sliced her thumb. She quietly sealed the cut with chakra, hoping to not attract attention to her nervousness, but when she hopped over the wall Kurenai was watching her with amusement.

"Sakura," she said, her voice warm and patient, "is there something you'd like to ask me?"

Sakura blinked up at her for a moment, weighing what she could ask against what she didn't want to reveal. Finally, rubbing the smooth skin new skin over the shuriken slice, she decided this was worth the risk.

"Um…actually, there is something." Sakura curled her hair behind her ear self-consciously. "The breeze," she swirled her hand around her face. "Was it...caused by something? Or was it just a breeze?" She laughed weakly, realizing how ridiculous it sounded.

Kurenai eyebrows hitched up. "So you saw a breeze?"

Sakura suddenly wished she'd kept her mouth shut. All this thinking about Katsuro was making her see things. She swatted the notion away. "I was probably just…. I mean, it was nothing…. I shouldn't have even mentioned it—"

"No, you weren't seeing things."

Sakura refocused, sure she'd heard wrong. Kurenai watched her, gauging her reaction. Whatever she saw in Sakura's face must have confirmed something to her, because she leaned closer and lowered her voice.

"It's a side-effect of bonding with a wind-natured shinobi. And Konoha has a particularly strong vein of wind users. Like Asuma."

Sakura blinked, taking it all in. "Oh…. So you mean if your teammate is wind-natured and you two are close then—"

"No," Kurenai cut her off. "It's more than that, and it's quite uncommon. _Most_ people would never notice…." Kurenai slanted a knowing look at Sakura. Heat instantly rose in her cheeks. But Kurenai kindly ignored her blushing.

"The wind element shinobi has to have a particularly strong affinity. And you and _he_," she look pointedly at Sakura, "in turn must have a particularly strong bond."

"Oh," Sakura said slowly, understanding blossoming on her face.

Kurenai let Sakura absorb the information, silently watching as if trying to guess who was the young talent in the village that Sakura had made a deeper connection to. But she didn't pry. "So, does that answer your question?"

"Oh yes," Sakura said quickly, remembering herself. "Yes it does. Thank you Kurenai-san." Her smile was overly bright, her cheeks were pink and she was hoping desperately that Kurenai wouldn't press her for more information in repayment for the explanation.

"Good, I'm glad I could be of assistance then." Kurenai watched Sakura steadily, but her tight smile said she wouldn't ask for more. When it was clear Sakura was satisfied with her answer, she added, "Shall we catch up?"

Sakura was more grateful than she could express. "Thank you," she said again earnestly as they walked.

"I'm glad I could help," she said, smiling gently.

Kurenai rose in Sakura's respect by tenfold. Now she understood why Team 8 adored her so. They walked back to the village in companionable silence.

Sakura floated through the rest of the day. She was still consumed by thoughts of Katsuro, but now it was a delicious distraction. More than once she stopped to stare out at the brilliant blue sky, remembering each time she'd felt the dizzying little breeze. More and more memories came back, his 'little wind thing' accompanying even the smallest connections. With his laughing eyes or when his hand was warm on her arm…it was always there.

Even now, she could practically feel the wisps of air dancing around her throat. Sakura cupped her hand around her neck and smiled to herself.

But that night, that kiss — so rough and soft, so sudden and sweet and desperate…. His lips hard on hers, then kissing him back, her arms wrapped around him, hands in his hair. Tasting him and feeling his breath against her cheek and hearing him say her name between kisses….

Sakura sucked in a breath at the memory.

That night Katsuro's warm wind had swirled around them both, catching them up together. It was undeniable. And Kurenai confirmed it.

Sakura slowly pressed her fingers to her lips, her eyes widening with a new realization. _If what Kurenai said was true, then it must mean that Katsuro…that he must really— _

"_Sakura?!_ Aren't you supposed to be in the labs right now?" Ino stared down from the nurses's stand at the end of the sunlit hall. "What's up with you today?"

"Oh!" Sakura snatched up her clipboard. "I completely forgot!" She dashed off down the long hallway, leaving Ino shaking her head in her wake.

* * *

Sakura knocked lightly on Tsunade's office door, surprised she didn't bark out for her to 'enter' as she usually did when someone arrived, tripping her jutsus.

"Come in Sakura-san," Shizune's voice called out politely.

Tsunade was pouring over a scroll, brows furrowed in deep concern.

Sakura noticed the pile of scrolls at the corner of her desk was growing. Some of them bore the familiar marking from some of the territories.

Tsunade rerolled the missive, handed it back to Shizune without a word, then directed her full attention to Sakura. Shizune quietly slid the door closed behind her.

"Hospital report?"

Sakura nodded, dropping the scroll into the basket designated for low-level village business. Sakura glanced at the other corner of the desk, noting that yes, she did recognized a few seals. "Are those from the territories? I see a few I might have been to—"

"It's to do with the festival," Tsunade said crisply and turned away from the pile. "Which reminds me," she pulled out a small scroll from a drawer on the opposite side of the desk, "could you drop this by ANBU headquarters for me?" Sakura nodded. "The council has expanded the invitation list. Now every dignitary and his brother is coming. The village is going to be crawling with people. ANBU is going to have to step up their security."

Sakura blinked, remembering the cherry blossom festival, the vast crush of people, and how easily Katsuro was able to circulate among them. Unfettered excitement swelled in her chest. This was it. He promised he'd come. And this was the perfect opportunity….

Tsunade was still talking about the council. "And they couldn't have picked a worse time," she grumbled distractedly.

Sakura refocused. "W-What do you mean, a worse time?"

"Nothing, nothing," she sighed, biting her thumb nail, _something_ clearly weighing on her. She glanced once at Sakura and looked as if she might continue, but instead shook her head. "No, it's nothing. The council just has no idea what it takes to keep our village safe, that's all. And this is just one more problem to deal with."

"But maybe I could help—"

"No, Sakura," she said firmly. "And I shouldn't burden you with these concerns. I remember the end-of-summer festival was the highlight of my summers growing up. You should enjoy it…"

Tsunade paused, eyes shifting with some distracting thought.

Sakura raised her eyebrows. Was the Hokage being nostalgic?

But the next moment the emotion was gone. Tsunade smiled bracingly. "We just need extra ANBU that's all." She stood and collected some scrolls, preparing for her next meeting and looking every bit the commanding leader. "Please see that scroll gets delivered. I cannot spare Shizune at the moment."

"Of course Tsunade-sama." Sakura bowed respectfully, and they both left her office together, splitting off in the hallway.

* * *

The months leading up to the festival were long and hot. Sakura continued working at the hospital and training with Tsunade. She was growing in strength everyday, and though it had only been a few months, Sakura was already proficient enough to shatter the ground. Tsunade was pleased. Shizune was impressed. And Sakura felt nearly invincible.

Her thoughts drifted to Katsuro almost constantly. She couldn't stop it if she tried, but sometime she thought she'd go crazy with missing him. She had always loved her village and never once sought anything more. But she thought maybe she understood how he felt.

He always wanted to be free, to come and go as he pleased. And though she wasn't free like that, it had never bother her before. But now the village walls that had always seemed so strong and formidable in keeping enemies out, only seemed to hold _her_ in. Only as an afterthought did she begrudgingly admit that this must be how Sasuke felt too.

One late-summer evening, fresh from a particularly hard training session with Tsunade, Sakura leaned back against the base of the great wall, cooling off in it's shade. Head tipped back, she watched the swallows swooping and diving, arching up over the highest stones and disappearing into the dusky sky. She sighed and wiped the sweat off her temple. If only she were that free, she thought. She'd fly out and go to him. Just to see him. Just for a little while.

Sakura laughed at herself and toed the ground with her foot. Daydreaming like a school girl…what would her team think? More laughter bubbled up.

But it mellowed with the single thought she'd been clinging to the all summer. Ever since Tsunade had mentioned it…she had grown more and more certain….

She was almost positive he'd be at the summer festival. He had promised to come to her. And this was the perfect opportunity. She'd see him again. Soon. Just a few more weeks.

Sakura smiled to herself, pushed off the wall and turned towards home, as more swallows took wing in the golden air above her.

* * *

Sakura combed out her hair, turning in the mirror and admiring how it fell a little past her shoulders. It was no match for Ino's length, but she could finally wind it up into a respectable bun.

Sakura wound one of her mother's old hair sticks around the length of her hair, flip it into a tight pink coil, then pushed the end down against her scalp, pinning the bun to her head. She secured it with the other stick, then checked her work. The hair sticks were old and cheap and the black lacquer was chipping, but she didn't care. She slipped down a few loose tendrils at her ears and the back of her neck, smoothed out the long sleeves of the flowery red summer kimono and tightened the pink obi around her waist. Then she smiled at her reflection.

_Katsuro has never seen me like this. Only in my shinobi fatigues._

She turned her head, inspecting her profile and twisting the hair sticks to keep the chipped sides turned inward Her thoughts drifted to Katsuro….

Tonight she could show him what life would really be like in a village. How wonderful it could be….

She could easily imagine him becoming friends with her friends, and them all going to the festival together. He would be handsome in a green…no a _sky blue_ kimono. Laughing and cutting up with Shikamaru, Kiba, Lee…. They'd go as one big group, playing games and having fun, eating delicious food, _ramen hopefully_, then they'd all go down to the river, floating their lanterns to honor Konoha's dead, and sit on the banks to watch the fireworks.

It was so easy to picture him, standing beside the river, smiling warmly up at her, eyes crinkling at the corner, hand extended to place her lantern in the water beside his.

But her imagination turned mischievous. It was also just as easy to picture him turning and squashing down into the river's notoriously marshy banks. He'd be the new kid so how could he have known? He'd go horrendously off balance, flailing to keep the lanterns upright while he splashed about, rocking the lanterns already floating in the water, while everyone roared with laughter. Maybe he'd even manage to land Sakura's alright, but he'd tip his sideways, catching it on fire, then end up having to throw it at the river in desperation.

Sakura laughed out loud, and suddenly covered her mouth, hoping no one heard her. The face in the mirror reflected back her rosy happiness.

Of course, he'd probably be in disguise tonight, she thought as she gathered up her little matching purse. But she was sure he'd come, and once he did, she was sure she could convince him to stay. She flipped off her light and closed the door to her bedroom.

Going down Konoha's streets with the throngs of people, Sakura was positively buoyant. Families with jubilant children streamed past her. She watched them go feeling that same sense of happy expectancy. Something good was going to happen, it felt like a good night. Hope bubbled up within her.

Sakura looked to the rooftops and watched the darkened lanes. She wandered around the village, skipping the festival in favor of haunting areas where he was most likely to show himself. But there seemed to be people everywhere.

She watched everyone, looking closely at faces for disguises. But she never saw any that seemed to fit him. Just as Tsunade said, there were a lot of dignitaries. Not the farmers or ruffians he usually came disguised as.

In fact, the festival itself was quite different from the one they'd attended together in the spring. Konoha was friendly and orderly, well-lit and safe. It lacked the element of danger accompanying the cherry blossom festival. There were no crushes of merchants' stalls, hooligans in menacing costumes, and adults bent on intrigues. Konoha was filled with children, families…and ninjas.

She glanced up at the roofline, catching a movement out of her peripheral vision. But her burst of excitement was squelched when the figure turned and a familiar white mask swiveled atop the flowing dark cloak.

It was just an ANBU agent surveying the lanes. Sakura quickly looked away before she was noticed.

She strolled for what felt like hours more. But there were no signs. She was beginning to lose hope….

A throng of children ran by, filling the street with shouts. They pushed and tussled down the narrow lane, followed by one scrawny kid angrily yelling at them. Sakura laughed. She remembered those kids from earlier in the summer, squabbling over a ball. They didn't remember her though, and they were gone just as quickly as they'd come.

Alone, she sighed and looked up at the sky between the buildings. The stars were just peeking out. It would probably be time for the fireworks soon—

A pattering of footfall on the gravel rang out, but it had a strange cadence.

She looked back, but no one was there. In front of her, however, an orange was rolling to a stop in the middle of the lane.

Sakura's heart leapt to her throat. She nearly jumped for joy. _He was here! She knew it!_ She _knew_ he would come tonight—

But before the orange had stopped rolling, before she had even taken another step towards it, the scrawny kid came barreling out of the shadowed lane. Three more kids were hard on his heels laughing and pushing at him. The scrawny one swooped for the orange, but they all descended on it yelling, "I've got it!" "No, it's mine!" In a whirlwind of hands and feet, the orange was snatched up, and the kids all took off again, the scrawny trailing behind.

They never saw the kunoichi frozen just a few paces away, watching them, crestfallen.

Sakura slowly walked to the spot where the orange had rolled so perfectly in front of her. All that was left were scuff marks in the dirt. Raucous laughter echoed back up the lane.

At least there was no one around to see her, she thought, feeling a little stupid for being so overjoyed. She sighed and headed down to the river. The unbridled hope had left her.

The river was beautiful and starry with the glow of the lights. Around her, families happily launched their lanterns. She bought one from a seller and set it gently down in the water where it was immediately lost in the sea of other identical lights.

Sakura looked around at the scene. Her happy village couldn't be more unlike that cherry blossom festival. It was safe here, pleasant and friendly. She scanned the rooftop out of habit. There were ANBU stationed everywhere. Funny, she had never truly noticed it before.

One ANBU caught her looking and nodded to her. Sakura acknowledged him, then quickly looked away. She was still uneasy about them from her interrogation a few years back.

But now, she felt a little ashamed. They were the reason there were no pickpockets, no hooligans terrorizing the merchants or cornering girls in alleys.

She had been wrong. Katsuro would never come here. He'd never feel comfortable or safe enough to "hide out" in plain sight. And if he did, then this wouldn't be the Konoha she knew and loved.

The first firework soared overhead, booming loudly. Everyone gasped and looked up. Sakura did too. The sky burst into glittering diamonds. Colors splashed across Sakura's face, but her thoughts were far away.

She felt, well…_stupid_. Of course he wouldn't come here. _Especially_ on a night like tonight. And as much as he disliked villages — _hated_ them, really — it was foolish to think he'd ever come here at all.

The fireworks boomed out their last dazzling display, then it was over. The crowd of contented villagers dispersed, murmuring their pleasure at the evening. Sakura walked back silently, untouched by their good feelings.

When she reached the narrow lane where the orange had rolled out in front of her, Sakura was glad it was full with villagers. It saved her from having to look and the spot and feeling stupid all over again for hoping. It felt like a bubble had burst. She sighed deeply and trudged home.

* * *

Three sets of black shoes padded silently up the river, following the footpath in almost complete darkness. Lanterns streamed slowly by, their soft bobbing glow the only light on the dark riverbank.

He didn't need it though. He knew exactly where he was going.

Just around the bend was a narrow set of steps that wound up to the town's meeting room. Kasturo veered off the path and quietly made his ascent. He crushed the bag of coins in his pocket flat against his leg to keep them quiet.

At the building, they crept soundlessly down the long wide-planked porch. Katsuro paused, listened, then waved the two men towards a dark shadow beneath a window. Once in place, they nodded. Katsuro kept going, creeping sideways, foot over foot, down the building. Once at the main entrance he held his breath and listened hard.

The leaves rustled gently around him, and the steady knocking of the river floated up. The town was known for its hot springs, and the watery sounds permeated everything.

But Katsuro was listening for voices, the clack of shoes, anything that would tell him how many people were inside. The kid he'd paid to deliver a phony scroll had said just one. But Katsuro was too wary to blindly trust the advice of a desperate kid who could have easily thrown the scroll into the woods, then come back for the money.

A single set of footsteps pounded down the length of the room. A shadow crossed the window. Then back again. A man cleared his throat, then began humming softly.

Katsuro breathed again. Just one man. The kid was telling the truth.

He straightened, peeled off the wall and stepped in front of the closed door. To him, all these men were locks. You just had to have the right key to open them. Sometimes money, sometimes fear, sometimes power. And when none of those worked, he turned to genjutsu.

But tonight, he'd start with the easiest. He slipped his hand into his pocket, looping his finger around the strings of the money pouch.

Closing his eyes, Katsuro murmured a jutsu then blew his breath out through his nostrils. Suddenly his hair blurred, darkened and straightened. His skin went a few shades paler. Katsuro stretched his neck side to side, testing that the disguise was in place. Satisfied, he plastered on an apologetic smile and eased back the door.

Light slanted out into the dark hall. Katsuro quickly stepped in and slide the door closed noiselessly behind him. The man at the other end of the long room perusing papers matched the description from Katsuro's scroll. He never even looked up. Katsuro's smile grew wider.

"I'm sorry to bother you sir." The man looked up, deeply startled. Katsuro continued, crossing the long meeting hall. "I was hoping you might—"

The man dropped his papers, clearly intent on shooing the young man out. "You'll have to go. We are closed for the festival."

"Yes, you see that's the thing. I was hoping to catch you alone, to speak to you privately. I have a small matter of business…." The man frowned and folded his arms, but nodded for him to continue. "My clan," here Katsuro inserted the family name listed in his mission data, "has a vested interest in the upcoming alliance vote—"

"No! Absolutely not. There is no discussion outside of the regular meeting times. And your clans knows that very well."

Katsuro plunked the pouch of coins onto the table and continued as if the man hadn't spoken. "The alliance vote that is coming up next week, we need to vote in favor of our…local interests. And _against_ Konoha." He couldn't keep the bite out of his voice.

The man looked at the bag for a moment, bulging with it's small fortune. He was clearly considering it. But he pushed it away, chin hitched up with resolve. "Your money won't work on me. We've been burned by your clan before. If you are even _from_ that family…." The man leaned in, peering at Katsuro closely.

Katsuro's eyebrow shot up. Apparently the mission data was wrong about the disguise. He changed his stance, thudding his feet loudly on the floor twice, signaling a shift in the plan.

"No matter," the man continued, hands on his hips. "We have an agreement with Konoha and stand to earn much more in trade with them than—"

Two shadows flickered ominously at the window.

The man whipped his head around, but he didn't flinch the way some of the others did. Instead he narrowed his eyes and turned back to Katusro, hands in tight fists.

"You'll not scare me with your parlor tricks! I'm under _shinobi_ protection. And some street rat who thinks he can con me with his stolen money—" He reached for Katsuro's collar to pitch him out the door, but Katsuro caught the man's hand and slammed it down on the table.

"Your girl's gone," he growled. "And I'm no street rat." Katsuro let the malicious chakra flood his system. His body went warm. His eyes went red. "I'm a shinobi. And I'm the only one you need to worry about."

The man's eyes went painfully wide. Katsuro grabbed the front of his robes, looked deeply into his eyes and cast a thin demon-fueled genjutsu. The man staggered back, but the terrified gasp was frozen on his face. Katsuro smirked. The jutsu took.

He'd been relying on the kyuubi's chakra more and more, testing its limits after discovering that strange harmony when he was hurtling across the territories toward Sakura. Whatever that was, it had never happened again. But it pushed him to experiment more with the chakra. He was getting accustomed to the feel of it, and had found it particularly useful for these quick and dirty genjutsus. It worked well, but he could feel the demon's pulse behind it, that malicious surge of energy just looking for a way to break loose…so he was careful not to use too much at a time.

"All that is needed," Katsuro said, the demon chakra adding an unearthly timbre to his voice, "is for you to break the alliance. You will vote against Konoha. Do you understand?" The man nodded shakily, still in a trance. "You no longer need the services of Konoha. Your proud town can stand on it's own. You feel very sure about this. The girl's services are no longer required. Any alliance with Konoha has been dissolved."

He nodded again.

Katsuro held the man's gaze as he reached in the money pouch, dropped five coins on the table, then slid the bag back into his own pocket.

"The money is a gift for you. It's a good night. You have a great town, and some extra change in your pocket." Katsuro's voice softened. "Now…leave here and go enjoy the festival. Everything is going to go your way after this. You're sure of it…."

Katsuro stepped back. The red in his eyes faded away. The man blinked once, looking around as if he couldn't remember how he got there. "I…I…."

Katsuro smiled sympathetically. "I was just asking you to accept this humble gift for helping with my family's…concerns." He laid his fingers over the coins. "But you were saying you on your way out…to enjoy the festival?"

That jogged his memory. "Oh yes! Thank you…. Uh, thank you for your gift!" He distractedly pocketed the coins. "But I'm afraid we…. Well, we must hurry down to the festival, before it's over!"

"Of course. I would never keep you. I'll just show myself out."

The man nodded quickly, swept up his papers and exited from the other end of the hall. Katsuro watched him go. _Another one down._

Outside, Katsuro strode back down the long wood porch. "It's done. Let's go." Two shadows peeled away from the wall and stalked down behind him, each much taller and larger than the teen. But they followed him obediently.

They left by the same dark path they'd come in on, following the river. The lanterns were nearly all gone now, save for the few stragglers caught up in the reeds. They bobbed against the banks, their lights slowly guttering out.

* * *

Katsuro walked back into camp the next night. The two men peeled off with a grunt, heading for their tents.

At a gap in the tents, Katsuro could see a group of new recruits with fists raised at some of the older ones. Katsuro recognized the men, troublemakers all of them, and figured they were picking fights with the new men.

It didn't matter to him, though. Katsuro came to the captain's tent and popped his head under the flap.

"You've got trouble out there—" he said with a tired laugh.

"Katsuro!" The graying captain looked up from his map. "Yeah, we're having trouble with these latest men. Come in. How did everything go?"

"Good." He came through the tent and gave him the completed mission scrolls. The captain read over them, nodded, then began checking off the towns on the map.

"There should only be a few more towns then I'm done, right?"

The captain shrugged distractedly. He fished out several more scrolls and laid them on the desk, then went back to the map.

"So when's the ambush?"

"Well it's still several weeks off but—"

"But I'm in on it, right?" Katsuro narrowed his eyes at the captain's evasive answers.

The older man sighed. "The big boss has something particular in mind for you."

Katsuro folded his arms, not pleased with where this was going. "And did Itachi say what—"

"He wouldn't say. You'll have to ask him yourself. But I think he wants you to take a team—"

Katsuro groaned. He had made it no secret he was tired of the teams.

"Well, I guess I should go see him then—"

The captain shook his head. "He's gone. Won't be back for several days. You're better off finishing up your assignments than hanging around here—"

The flap suddenly pulled back and Wei stepped in, wearing his usual deceptive smile. The sounds of yelling drifted in with him.

Katsuro scowled deeply and turned back to the desk. Wei's black eyebrow hitched up, smile turning smug.

"Well, if it isn't little Katsuro come home to roost."

Katsuro snatched up his scrolls. His hatred of that man was deep and dangerous. But Wei never discovered that it was Katsuro he'd fought the night he'd attacked Sakura, not Sasuke Uchiha. So he kept his anger in check. But it was hard….

Katsuro turned to leave, but Wei drifted into his path, blocking him. "More errands?" he said with that crocodile smile.

Katsuro didn't answer. Wei was looking for trouble. And Katsuro had more to protect than himself.

Wei just laughed at Katsuro's dark look. "Well maybe next time he'll let you run with the big boys."

Katsuro pushed on past him, but Wei laughed and slapped him hard on the shoulder in a manner that was not at all friendly.

Fury shot through Katsuro. He pushed it down, instead turning back with his own toothsome smile. "Yeah that's always something to look forward too." And he slapped Wei hard on the shoulder, mimicking him…and hitting him in same spot he'd plunged his kunai in that night.

Katsuro knew he'd hit Wei as he retreated. Wei quietly had the wound wrapped at camp, but it still hurt him. Katsuro took some small pleasure in the fact that he favored his other arm now.

Wei's body rocked from the slap, but he couldn't hide the spasm of pain. He shot Katsuro a murderous look, but Katsuro only grinned as if he didn't notice. Mood significantly lighter now, Katsuro threw a jaunty salute at the captain then was out the door. Sounds of fighting fluttered in with the shifting canvas.

"So…any luck?"

Swearing and rubbing his shoulder, Wei fished out a Kiri headband and a folded note out of his pocket. He dropped the paper on the desk.

"Date and place, just as you asked. I figure they'll be heading out on the northern road a day before." He shoved the headband back into his pocket

The captain read the missive then returned to the map. "We'll need to set up an ambush point on that road," he traced the route with a finger, "then plot out the escape routes. We'll need to get that shipment hidden as soon as possible. There will only be a few hours before they realize they've been hit. But it should be enough time for us to get away." He flicked his eyes up. "Did they ask for more money?"

"Of course," Wei smirked, rolling his shoulder and straightening. "I put up a little fight, but in the end promised them what they asked for."

The captain laughed lowly. "Promise them as much as you want. They won't see a coin of it." He rubbed a weathered hand across his mouth, working out more details. "Alright…. Take out a team to scout out the ambush sites. Then we'll need to cover our tracks with the contact. You need to come up with a way dispose of your 'Kiri nin' disguise—"

"What about that pain-in-the-ass Katsuro? These little jobs are the only thing Itachi keeps him around for—"

"Which reminds me, Itachi has you on a team with Katsuro soon. And I expect you to behave, _soldier_." The captain shot Wei a hard look, reminding him that they were both Rain soldiers first, before they had to take orders from a Leaf nin. "Our goal is in sight. And it's bigger than some petty camp squabble."

Wei rolled his eyes, but agreed with his superior. "It's just that kid. He's such a—"

The canvas flap blew open. But this time it was ominously quiet outside. "Boss, come quick! They're at it again," a young red-faced recruit panted. "But-But this time…." He wrung his hands. "Oh, just come quick!"

Swearing to himself, the captain rounded the desk. Wei snickered in his wake.

"This time they better have killed each other," the older man grunted as they followed the anxious teen. "Because when I get to them they'll wish they…."

He didn't need to finish. A gruesome scene opened up between two tents: On the ground in the middle of the skulking group were the two ring leaders of the feud, both impaled by each other's kunai. Their blood was seeping into the sand and blossoming out beneath them.

"Well, that takes care of one problem," the captain muttered. He moved forward to check their vitals, while the rest of the men wisely disappeared back into the tents.

Beside the captain, Wei kicked the floppy foot of the dead thug at his feet. Dressed in black with a patch of dark hair, the man on the ground looked very much like him. With the exception of the kunai sticking out of his chest, of course.

He sunk a hand in his pocket, brushing the cold metal of the Kiri headband stowed there. Suddenly, his face brightened.

The captain rounded on the red-faced recruit, the only one left standing there. "You!" The teen jumped. "Do you know what this was about?"

"I think it was a rivalry from their hometown, s-sir."

It was the captain's face now going red with anger. "Worthless, the lot of them. We need to send them all packing." He thumbed at the flustered recruit. "Get over here and help haul off these bodies. We can't leave a trace—"

But Wei stopped the teen before he picked up the feet of one body. "Hey captain. Can I have this one? I've got an idea…."

The captain craned his neck back and shot Wei a look of irritated surprise. "You want him? Better have a good reason."

"Oh yeah," Wei said, pulling the headband out of his pocket. "It's a good one."

* * *

Wiping his nose on the back of his hand, the lanky teen picked up the sacks of trash to haul out the back door of the pathetic roadside watering-hole. It was late, he was tired. A big gaping yawn overtook him just as he was bumping the back door open with his butt.

The door stuck. Recovering from the yawn, he smacked his lips and bumped it again. This time he realized it wasn't his own lack of energy but something actually blocking the door.

Grunting, he threw his shoulder into it, knocking the bags of trash against the door. Each time it scooted a little farther out. Finally, with one big oomph, the obstacle was dislodged.

Sighing heavily, he hoisted up the bags and headed around behind the door to pitch the trash in the old bins, when he caught sight of just what had been blocking the door.

A foot. Then a leg. Then the rest of a body stretching into the darkness.

_Had someone been back here sleeping? What an awful place to pass out—_

But his eyes fell on the profile of a kunai, protruding horribly from his chest. The kid dropped the bags of trash and tipped his head for a better look. Glinting at his waist was a Kiri headband. His pockets had been pulled inside out, and crumpled beside him on the ground was a deflated sack, clearly having been emptied of his goods by whomever robbed him.

The kid remembered him. This was the nin who stopped here a few months back. He sniffled and wiped his nose on the back of his hand again.

This couldn't be good.

"Hey, uh…. Hey, Pa…? I think you better come out here…."

* * *

Tsunade read the scroll in front of her with a worried frown. She curled up the paper and reached into the foreign correspondence basket to double-check against another scroll. Her frown deepened.

Shizune quietly opened the door, her tea tray stacked high with new scrolls. The small tea pot and cup had been pushed to the corner. She propped the tray on her hip and slid the door closed behind her.

Without a word, Shizune deposited the tea onto a clear spot of desk, then dumped the scrolls into the basket. They spilled over, tumbling onto the desk. Shizune grimaced.

"Dammit," Tsunade sighed, eyes darting over the colorful tassels at the end of each missive, reading their places of origin. They came from vastly different areas. But she could guess they all said the same thing. Tsunade unfurled the top one. "Dammit," she said again, throwing it back down. It lay open on the desk in front of her, black characters stark against the white background, as unyielding as the message they conveyed.

Shizune watched her with growing concern. She poured the tea. But Tsunade sat back and bit her thumbnail, never noticing the curls of steam rising from the cup beside her.

Clutching the tray to her chest, Shizune couldn't take the suspense. "So, does this mean…. Do you think she could have been followed?"

Tsunade shook her head slowly. "There is no solid proof. But…." She cupped her hand over her mouth, eyes drifting over the words unseeing. "But I can't tell her yet. This will crush her. All that work, all that time…_wasted_."

"No," Shizune murmured quietly, "you shouldn't say anything until you know all the facts. And besides—"

A sharp rap at the door snapped Tsunade out of her trance. She shot Shizune a firm look and raised a finger to her lips.

"Enter!"

Sakura came in, all smiles, carrying the hospital reports. But her smile faded when she saw Tsunade. Ignoring Sakura's concern, Tsunade held out her hand for the reports.

"I-Is something wrong?" she said, glancing briefly at the overflowing basket.

Tsunade dropped the hospital reports directly on top of the open scroll, concealing the message. Thankfully, Sakura didn't notice. But deceiving her apprentice did not sit well with her. Tsunade's eyes fell to the fragments of words peeking out from behind the hospital scrolls — "no thank you" and "assistance isn't necessary" and "dissolving alliance" — and rethought her vow to not include Sakura. _She was her apprentice after all, she could handle it. Perhaps she could even shed some light on this…._

Tsunade sighed. A last wisp of steam blew away from the cup.

"Sakura…. There is something—"

Shizune exploded into a fit of loud, urgent coughing. Tsunade's eyes slid away.

"Nevermind…. It's— It's nothing," Tsunade said, voice tight.

Shizune patted her chest and echoed "Yes, it's nothing, nothing at all!" Sakura looked deeply suspicious now.

Tsunade rolled her eyes at Shizune, but she turned back to Sakura with an open smile. "Just some things on the horizon. Nothing to worry about now." Her tone was pleasant but final.

Sakura bowed, not completely convinced. "Well, if there's any way I can help…."

Tsunade shook her head and Shizune ushered her out of the office. But as soon as the door slid home, Shizune turned around and shot an exasperated look back at the older woman.

"You said not to say anything until we were certain!"

"I know what I said," Tsunade grumbled. She reached for her tea only to wrinkle her nose at the now-cool drink.

"Just be patient, Tsunade-sama. Wait until the rest of the scrolls come back. Then we'll know for sure."

Tsunade cast a troubled glance back at the ever-growing pile of scrolls. "Yes…. We'll wait. But I have a feeling we already know the answer."

* * *

Katsuro came back into camp hot, hungry and tired. He'd just finished another handful of jobs, including two where he had to strong-arm the target. But he got it done. Now all he wanted was dinner and sleep.

But the flicker of dim light from Itachi's tent meant that he had more to do before he could rest.

Itachi wanted to see him. This was the first time they'd been in camp at the same time in weeks. He didn't know when the next time would be…. Best to get it over with now…then eat, _then_ sleep.

Katsuro sighed and turned away from the main campfire, stomach growling traitorously. But he clamped his hand over it and headed toward the captain's tent to drop off his scrolls.

Darkness had done little to drop the temperature. A late summer heat wave had settled over the land. Men lazed around the camp trying to escape the stifling heat.

Tent flaps pulled back, Katsuro could see the captain standing in the middle of his tent, hovering over the desk and the map. The open doors were meant to help circulate the air, but instead of cooling anything off, it only succeeded in letting in more bugs to flit around the lamplight.

The captain was wiping a hand over the back of his neck when he saw Katsuro approaching. "Come in…."

Katsuro nodded and dropped his completed scrolls on the desk.

The captain immediately scratched off the last string of red dots on the map. "Any problems?"

"Nah," he said. "Well, a few, but nothing I couldn't handle."

The older man smiled at his self-confidence. "Good!" His voice carried a sureness from years of managing men, _soldiers_, both good and bad, and receiving a positive look from the old captain never failed to lift Katsuro's spirits.

"So…. What's next? I'm in on the ambush right? I mean surely I've proved that I'm ready for more…."

But the captain's open expression shuttered. "There's nothing I can do about it—" He put his hand out to quell Katsuro's mounting frustration. "Itachi wants to see you as soon as you get back. He has something else for you to do."

"Just not part of the big job then," Katsuro said darkly.

The captain sighed. "I'm sure it's important. He was emphatic about you going to see him…." Someone sauntered past the opening of tent without making a sound and headed directly toward Itachi's tent. The captain's voice thinned, "no matter who was in there…."

Katsuro watched the black silhouette approach the glowing door of Itachi's tent. The man stood, hands in pockets, and casually waited. Katsuro watched him closely; the hairs rose on the back of his neck. Itachi bid him enter, and the slant of light that fell around his cloak confirmed what Katsuro had already guessed: This man was Akatsuki.

He ducked through the flap, the big sword strapped to his back hovering menacingly in the doorway for a moment. Then the canvas swung closed.

Katsuro shuddered inwardly. It was _Kisame._

Katsuro remembered the first time he'd seen him, years ago while they were still on the run. They were in a crowded market, looking for someone. Katsuro assumed it was the masked man. But Itachi pointed to the grey-skinned shinobi who rose a head taller than everyone else.

"Katsuro," Itachi said quietly, "what you have trapped on the inside, that man _is_ on the outside."

Katsuro had openly stared at him. The more he looked, the more he saw signs of another creature…a fish? Or maybe…a shark. Katsuro gaped, wondering what _he_ would look like if his demon rose to the surface—

"Don't stare," Itachi said unsympathetically. "He's killed for less than that." Itachi pushed him toward a market stall. "Besides, if you're lucky maybe one day you'll be half the shinobi he is. You do have quite a few things in common…." Itachi smirked down at him. Katsuro's hand drifted to the stomach where the seal was hidden.

The old woman who ran the stall came out smiling. Itachi smiled back and looked deep into her eyes, the subtle wheels of his sharingan spinning to life. "Please watch out for this boy. He is a distant relative, come to visit. Put him to work in the back of your shop." The old woman nodded, then looked at Katsuro with fresh eyes. "My dear boy! I'm so glad you've come!"

The woman inspected his hair and tugged his clothes, going on about how much he'd grown, and how much help she needed…. Katsuro ducked under the her grabbing arms.

"But— But is he safe?" he asked up at Itachi, panic in his voice. "Shouldn't we just get out of here?"

"As long as your with me, he's safe," Itachi said haughtily. "Now go on," he said, jutting his chin at the old woman. "You've got work to do." Then he strode across the busy lane, leaving Katsuro behind.

The woman pulled and cajoled, listing off the things she needed help with, but Katsuro wouldn't budge. He felt certain the man was dangerous, more dangerous than any mere shinobi. There was something different about him, he could just feel it. And he wished Itachi wouldn't get so close—

Itachi, however, went right for him. Katsuro almost shouted. The shark-man looked down at Itachi, and Katsuro was sure he was going to chop him in two with that giant sword or lurch into a monster shark and devour him….

But instead his grey face twisted into something like respect. Itachi politely held out his hand to a dango shop. The man spoke, showing a serrated row of shark's teeth behind his human mouth, and Katsuro went queasy with fear. But they disappeared together under the flaps of the restaurant, and the bustle of the street closed off his view.

Katsuro blew out his breath and finally let the jutsued woman drag him to the back of the stall and put him to work. Later, when Itachi came to collect him, all he would say about the encounter was that the man, _Kisame_, had agreed to join him in an alliance. Katsuro shrugged, surreptitiously scanning Itachi for bite marks or sword hacks. But of course there were none.

Standing at the door of the captain's tent, watching the canvas flap fall behind Kisame as he disappeared into Itachi's tent, Katsuro knew now that Itachi wasn't just having a friendly chat all those years ago. That day, he had recruited Kisame into Akatsuki.

Katsuro watched the tent warily. He had grown since then as well. He wasn't a terrified kid anymore. But even though he could handle himself, men like that still made him shudder inside.

Kisame and the others of the Akatsuki were monsters, and no matter what Itachi said in praise of their 'unfathomable powers,' Katsuro vowed he would never be like that.

"Uh, I think I'll wait till Itachi's finished with his…guest."

The captain cleared his throat. "Itachi wants you to come in. No matter who's there," he said firmly. "Those were his orders."

Katsuro stood for another long moment before deciding that if Itachi ordered it, then probably ought to go. He squared his shoulders and stepped out—

"Hey," the captain called from the behind him, warning in his voice. "Watch yourself, boy."

Katsuro nodded once, then left.

At the door of Itachi's tent, he hesitated, still unsure if he was truly expected or not, then pulled back the flap.

Leaning against Itachi's desk, Kisame looked up with an unmistakeable gleam in his eyes. Shark's eyes, Katsuro thought instantly.

Itachi's turned his flat gaze on him.

Katsuro stood uncomfortably there, half in and half out of the doorway, feeling distinctly like prey.

It must have showed. Kisame chuckled lowly, the enormous sword strapped to his back creaking with the movement.

"Katsuro," Itachi said without a trace of pleasantness in his voice. "I have a job for you. One that I think only _you_ can manage."

Kisame smiled. Rows of sharpened teeth glistened.

Katsuro stepped inside, a queasy feeling taking hold in the pit of his stomach, and let the flap swing closed behind him.

* * *

Standing outside the Hokage's door, Sakura realized she'd seen very little of Tsunade since mid-summer. Missions had ramped up, and consequently so had her hospital work. More often than not she found herself delivering the hospital reports to Shizune. By some odd coincidence, the Hokage's unflappable assistant was always intercepting her in the hall.

Sakura frowned, realizing she hadn't delivered the scrolls to Tsunade herself in almost two months.

That's why Tsunade's summoning was troubling. Sakura had always had a comfortable relationship with Tsunade. And training under her earlier in the summer, learning the techniques from the master herself as to how to wield her chakra had made them even closer. She looked at the Hokage as a leader and a friend. Very much like Kakashi.

But as she stood outside the door, waiting to be allowed entrance, she realized that even that fact seemed off. Tsunade's detection jutsus meant she knew who was standing outside her office. Probably knew it as soon as they entered the building.

Sakura waited patiently, ignoring the knot that was forming in her stomach. The stuffy hall didn't make things better. Summer was slipping into fall, but it was still unmercifully hot. Sakura wiped a hand over the back over neck—

Suddenly the door slid back. No good-natured shouting from Tsunade. Just Shizune's face, murmuring a gentle greeting and thanking Sakura for waiting.

Sakura knew something was wrong. Shizune had the worried smile of someone about to deliver bad news. She'd seen the look a thousand times at the hospital. Sakura turned to face Tsunade, bracing herself. If she had to guess, it was news that someone had died. Shizune quietly slid the door closed behind her.

Tsunade sat backlit at her desk, her hair and coat softly glowing in the midday sun. To either side were piles of scrolls, and in the center was the tattered map of the territories. Sakura quietly approached, but Tsunade didn't look up.

Instead she sighed dispiritedly. "Thank you for coming Sakura."

"Hokage-sama," Sakura bobbed her head. "Is it bad news? Has someone…." She was racing through the faces of friends, trying to remember when she'd last seen them, trying to guess which one would be the one she'd have to mourn at the hero's monument. _As if knowing sooner would soften the blow…._

But Tsunade shook her head and met Sakura's eyes. "It's nothing like that. I'm sorry to have worried you." But Tsunade still looked deeply troubled. In fact, she looked worn out.

Sakura's mind shifted gears. _Was she sick then? Was this why she had been avoiding her—_

Tsunade seemed to read her mind, understanding only as another medic would the need to know every scrap of information. A sad smile ghosted over her lips. Then it was gone.

"Sakura, things are changing outside our village. We cannot know—" She stopped and rubbed a hand over her eyes.

"We have been receiving reports from the territories, all summer." She waved her hand over the imposing pyramid of scrolls beside her. "The alliances we had worked so hard to forge," she looked up at Sakura, head tipped with sympathy, "all the missions you took on…. They have fallen through. All of them."

Sakura's mouth fell open in silent shock. The color drained from her face. "No…." she gasped. "H-How…."

Tsuande winced, still wishing somehow that it wasn't true.

But, expert medic-nin that she was, Tsunade also knew very well that bad news was best delivered swiftly. And without pity. Now that she had delivered the first, most painful blow, she sucked in a breath and slipped into Hokage mode, plunging into the details of why and how. Sakura deserved nothing less.

"We have been tracking it all summer. Each territory, each clan we had sought out, each group that had been in accordance with us has rebuffed us. All the inroads we'd made are closed."

Sakura stared at the pile scrolls, recognizing the tassels finally. These had been the reports. Tsunade had been shielding her from them until she was sure. "But—"

"There is more," Tsunade said, voice tight. "We think…. There is evidence to support that your attack was as part of a larger plan. Not some local clan's tug-of-war. But something bigger."

Sakura shook her head. "How could that be? I was—"

"Your missions were shut down in an order, one after another. And since your presence was specifically requested on that mission, it stands to reason that it may have been an orchestrated attempt to draw you out. So when you delivered that last scroll — a mission that was more formality than anything else — someone was laying in wait for you. Because after that…well…. We think your death was intended to send a message. But you proved them quite wrong."

Tsunade smiled bracingly, but Sakura didn't see it. Instead her eyes were darting over the desk, from the map to the pile of scrolls and back again, going through the mental loops of how something like this could have happened. Just what it would require to undo all those alliances….

Tsunade knew what she was going through. She'd done just the same thing for the better part of the summer. She sighed and pushed on.

"Sakura, was there anyone you met, anyone who knew what you were doing? Anyone who was overly interested in your comings and goings? Think back, even the most insignificant person—"

Sakura's hand flew to her mouth. "There _was_ someone," she said, green eyes going wide. "A politician, this spring at the cherry blossom festival. He was flattering and friendly, and speaking to everyone. But he knew I was from Konoha and was very interested in what a 'big fish' village was doing there." Her voice raised a notch. "I never said anything…but, he could easily have…."

Tsunade cut her off. "It's okay. It wasn't a secret. These weren't S-class missions."

Sakura blinked in confusion. "But…how could our alliances catch _anyone's_ attention? They were trivial matters! _I was there!_"

"We have a suspicion that one of the countries is amassing weapons of war." Tsunade tapped out the hidden ninja villages in each of the big nations. "Suna has always been a threat. As well as Kumo. But current intelligence is pointing toward Kiri." She drew her finger to the Mist village. "Whoever is doing it, is using the territories to hide their actions. They could even be infiltrating, silently drawing closer, even building bases to launch an attack."

"But, couldn't it be strife within the territories themselves? The men were petty and small-minded, always out to get one another—"

"That's exactly why it couldn't be from within these lands," Tsunade drew her finger across the map, following the territorial lands that ringed Konoha. She stopped at the black blotch that was the former Rain country, tapping at it. "And _they_ are too busy killing themselves to pay attention to anything else. So that leaves one of the larger countries," she said waving her hand over the broad sections of land that dwarfed the Fire Country on the map.

Sakura felt like she was reliving the past. Hadn't she stood here and watched Tsunade agonizing over the map two summers ago, voicing her fears about just this scenario?

"But— But if the territories are infiltrated, then what is to stand in the way? What is there to protect us? Can our _single village_ handle an onslaught from an entire _nation_?"

Tsunade regarded her pale apprentice, realizing for the first time that she had matured, she was aware of much more than she was a year ago. Maybe she should tell her of Konoha's awful predicament….

But she quickly squashed the thought. No, she couldn't break her faith in her village. She couldn't tell her that the generation before had failed her, lost the only hope of protection that Sakura and future generations would have. She knew what it was like to live without hope. She wouldn't wish that on anyone. Even though the truth was the only thing protecting them was an illusion.

"We have a strong village," Tsunade said firmly. "We have withstood hard odds. We can withstand them again. Whether the attack is from formal shinobi units or from hired mercenaries, I know we can—"

Sakura's blood turned to ice. "W-What?" she choked out.

"The movements are either being carried out directly by that country's nins or they are hiring mercenaries. Rogues without names or allegiance. Lured by the offer of money or shinobi training."

Sakura nodded as if in a daze. She suddenly remembered that general complaint in the territories: there were never enough men. The old farmer, the innkeeper. All made mention of it.

A sickening thought was forming

"Someone's pulling the strings, we're just not sure who…." Tsunade continued to hypothesize, but Sakura didn't hear it.

"Could the Akatsuki have any hand in this?" Sakura blurted.

"No…." Tsunade sighed. "We know even less about them. Although I wouldn't be surprised if they were somehow involved."

Sakura was in a panic. _This was the same strategy Katsuro used. Low level thugs carrying out a broader organization. All seemed unconnected, but maybe…._ She took a steadying breath. _No, he couldn't be involved. He always said he never cared what she was doing. He had even helped her complete her mission, even when he said he didn't want to…._

"Tsunade-sama," she paused, "the last mission, the one where I was attacked. Did it stand? Or did it fall too—"

Tsunade shook her head sadly. But Sakura's thoughts were in turmoil.

Sakura suddenly remembered Katsuro's staunch refusal to deliver that scroll, and then his grim expression when he returned. "It's done," he had said with unmistakeable distaste. _What if…. What if…._

"Tsunade-sama, that last scroll, was it in fact delivered?" Tsunade frowned at her. Sakura thought quickly. "I uh, never actually saw the clan head. Just his house man."

Tsunade shrugged. "I don't know if it was, but I doesn't matter now." She picked up a scroll with a familiar red tassel. "They have an investor and have no more need for 'our assistance.'" She pitched it back into the pile.

Sakura was inwardly reeling. It was too much to process at once. _Was this really happening? Was their country on the brink of war? And Katsuro…Katsuro…could he somehow be involved—_

"Sakura, there is one more thing." Tsunade pushed a slim scroll forward.

"This is a formal invitation for that little girl, and her family, to relocate here." Sakura's chin wobbled for a moment. _Yes, this was really happening. _

Tsunade looked at her sympathetically. "There is trouble on the horizon, of that I am certain. And if it continues, it may be impossible for them to seek Konoha's protection, even if they need it. If the Fire Nation is attacked, then the village will be cut off to outsiders."

Sakura nodded sharply, squashing her emotions. "Thank you Hokage-sama. I am grateful that you've remembered this in the face of everything else—"

"Nonsense," she said bracingly. "She sounds like a remarkable young girl. And if you have picked her then I know she must be. I trust your judgement above all things." Sakura grimaced, but Tsunade didn't see. Instead she pushed the scroll into Sakura's hands. "That's why I don't want you to worry about the loss of the alliances. Any lost mission is always a blow, just like losing a patient. But being aware of their movements now may just give us the edge we need to defend ourselves later."

Sakura nodded and quietly slipped the scroll into her pouch.

"It will have to be a solo mission, unfortunately. Sai and Sasuke are out right now. I would rather you had a team but I don't want to wait—"

"I will be fine, Tsunade-sama," Sakura said firmly, another idea forming in her mind. "I…I've been looking forward to getting out of the village on my own for a while now."

"Good," she sighed. "Shizune!" she boomed at the door before whispering, "she's been hovering out there the whole time—"

Shizune slid back the door, concern etched on her face.

"See, I told you she would be fine."

Shizune wilted with relief. "Tsunade-sama has been so worried. She didn't even want to—"

"Shizune!" Tsunade barked overly loud. "Aren't you supposed to be delivering the anbu reports? Not hanging around my office door?"

"Tsunade-sama, I was concerned about you! And Sakura!"

Sakura smiled at the two, reassuring them that she would survive the blow. She thanked Tsunade again for the scroll, and turned to go. But her smile masked the heart-rending doubt that had taken hold.

* * *

Digging her hand past the slim scroll as she checked her hip pouch, Sakura was grateful once again that Tsunade had both thought to let her go after the girl…_and_ the for the chance that she might connect with Katsuro. Perhaps he'd left a message for her at the farm. Or maybe she'd even be lucky enough to see him. She hoped so…she had some questions to ask him….

She counted out kunai, added a few extra shuriken, then set about replenishing her med-kit. Remembering the woman's knotted hands, she mentally noted to throw in some extra herbs for her.

Satisfied that everything was in good order, she zipped it up and snapped it around her waist. And in a very short order she was out the door of her home, then past the gates of the village. The descent through the dark forest was a blur, as was most of her trek out across the fertile Fire Country farmlands.

Her mind was spinning with thoughts about the failed missions, who could be the most likely culprit…and whether Katsuro had a connection to it. Occasionally intruding was the idea that the old grandfather would not take the invitation too kindly. Even though it was for his granddaughter's own good. She knew farmers could be a stubborn lot.

But a child like that was a prime target for any number of groups. At least in Konoha she would be able to choose her path. That certainly wasn't guaranteed in other villages. And she hated to think of what someone like Itachi would do with her. She'd become a tool for the Akatsuki for sure. She shuddered. Perhaps Katsuro already was….

With these swirling thoughts she crossed into the territories. It had been another stiflingly hot day, and by the time she reached the gate over the road — the one Katsuro had leapt over disguised as an old man just the summer before — the sun was hanging low over the mountain range that ringed the valley.

She flattened her hand on the old wood gate. Everything looked the same. The green fields stretched out. Insects were whirring up into the warm air, gleaming in the gold light. All that was missing was him.

Sakura hoped there might be a message. But…now there was also fear. What if he left her something confirming that he had been involved. She didn't want to believe it but….

If only she could just see him, just to ask him, just to make sure, absolutely he had nothing to do with this…. Sakura bit her lip and toed herself up and over the gate.

The old man and his wife were thrilled to see her, and Sakura knew immediately that Katsuro had never come. The little girl circled around her, then the building, sure that Katsuro was hiding somewhere.

He always was her favorite, Sakura thought with a sad smile.

Finally the girl came back and leaned against the grandfather's legs. She had grown a little taller since Sakura had last seen her. He ruffled her feathery black hair while she peered up at Sakura. Sakura tipped her head, studying her curious gaze.

"He's not with you, is he? He didn't come." She spoke in a voice that was surprisingly mature.

Sakura sucked in a breath. "No, he didn't come."

She watched the girl's steady black eyes. She had clearly been reading the chakra signatures around them. That she had matured in her abilities as well refocused Sakura to her purpose.

"Come in, come in," the grandfather said hospitably. "We were just about to have dinner. Come eat!"

Only then did the girl spring forward to curl her hand around Sakura's and lead her in, apparently having forgiven her for coming without her favorite.

Sakura didn't begrudge her. She felt some childish disappointment as well. Trekking there, she had thought the place would hold pleasant memories. But instead, she only felt Katsuro's absence more keenly.

Dinner was as pleasant as any she'd remembered. She ate, the little girl curled at her side, and listened to the news of the area. The doors were all thrown open to allow as much draft as possible. So the view of the purpling mountains against the darkening sky filled up their view. The grandfather swelled with pride that Sakura, a well-to-do village shinobi, was so taken with their view. It was hard not to. It was truly bucolic.

And so Sakura dragged her feet in coming to her point. Instead she helped clear away dinner. She had an extra-long healing session with the wife. The stars were already twinkling in the sky when she accepted their invitation to stay the night.

It was only then that grandfather asked her what she was doing passing through these parts anyway, especially when they hadn't seen her — or her partner — for so long.

Sakura bit her lip. There was her confirmation, she thought. He hadn't come. Now get on with it, she told herself sternly.

"Actually, I'm not passing through. Not exactly." She reached in the pouch and pulled out the scroll. "I have an invitation for you, from the Hokage herself…."

She passed it over to the grandfather. But as his face grew darker the farther down the scroll he went, Sakura realized she should have thought this out a little better.

Finished, he rolled it up and handed it back, eyes blazing. The wife bundled the young girl off to bed, ignoring her questions about "why was his little ball of light getting all sharp and pointy? Was he mad?"

Sakura hitched up an eyebrow at the old man, as if proving that the little girl was going to need protection, and soon.

The grandfather responded by folding his arms stubbornly over his chest, as if he was rooting himself to that spot.

Sakura sighed. This was not going to be easy.

She began, laying out the reasons why the girl should be moved, and what Konoha had to offer. For her and for them. Tsunade had been generous, promising farm land in the Fire Country and guaranteeing the girl a spot at the academy. It wasn't the same as what they had here, but it was a fair deal. They would be able to make a respectable living. And most importantly, the girl would be safe.

"Bah. She's safe here," he growled. "This farm has been in my family for generations. Do you think I would just throw it away for some garden patch in the Fire Country? You may know how to heal, missy, but you need to learn a lot more about how life works before you come here trying to redirect mine. Keep you pretty scroll," he threw it back at her, "and tell your Hokage-lady we ain't interested."

Sakura's voice rose with her temper. "This is not about you or your farm, no matter how many people have owned it. It's about the girl! She's in danger—" Sakura realized that the movement in the territories was probably classified information, so she changed tack. "She's in danger because there are countries and organizations who would like to," she checked herself, lowering her voice, "who would like to have a child like that to raise and indoctrinate to their own beliefs—"

"Like your village! And that…that academy of yours!"

"No! Not like my village!" Sakura wanted to pull her hair out. "There are countries who'd like to use her as a weapon. And any nukenin or criminal organization could make a small fortune in kidnapping her and selling her to the highest bidder."

The grandfather wrenched his head away, refusing to hear it.

"Konoha would protect her and allow her to grow into whatever she wanted. She doesn't have to go to the academy if she doesn't want to," he scoffed at that, "_but_ you could build a life there where she could be safe. All the time."

"She's safe here," he bristled.

"She's not," Sakura said just as firmly. "And…and things are changing. There may be a time when you need Konoha's protection, but we may not be able to provide it."

Eyes bulging with anger, the grandfather rounded on her. "Are you trying to drive a hard bargain with me? I've been trading rice three times longer than you've been alive. _'I have a special offer, and it's just for you. But hurry, it won't last long….'_ Look, missy, I've never heard of anyone being picked off by the big countries. They don't care about us! All they want are the young _men_."

He said the last part as if it should hurt her feelings. Sakura almost laughed.

"They'll take whoever they can get. And a remarkable child like your granddaughter will draw the attention of any number of groups. She's more valuable than a whole town full of men!"

Something she said must have gotten through. The grandfather stopped and eyed her. "Last summer…you said she was safe. But now you think she's not?" He peered at her just as the grandaughter had done hours earlier.

Calm returned to her voice. Maybe they were finally getting somewhere. "There are some things I'm not at liberty to share. But yes…I think she's in danger here. And if she's not, she will be. And more importantly, the Hokage thinks so too."

He grunted. Sakura took it as a good sign. "And what does that lady know about us?"

"I told her about your family. About how special your granddaughter is. And _she_ said—" The man suddenly went still, listening closely to what judgement the great Hokage of Konoha had made on his little girl. Sakura cleared her throat. "She said that your granddaughter was truly unique, and that ever effort should be made to protect her. But she also said the choice was yours."

The grandfather rubbed a big square hand down his weathered face, then puffed out a small sigh. Sakura thought his defenses might be crumbling. Hands on his hips, he made a quiet "tsk" sound, then slowly held out his hand take the scroll back. Sakura bit down on her smile and passed it back over.

"I'm not agreeing to anything, missy! So don't look so smug. Just…let me keep the it overnight to…to think about." Sakura smiled broadly then.

The old farmer and his wife were hospitable, but there was little room for guests in the farmhouse. So Sakura took the offered palette and gladly bedded down in the wide corridor that ran the length of the house. The grandparents' room was at one end of the long hall, the girl's small room at the center. Sakura chose a spot nearest the exterior doors at the other end of the hall.

The night was humid, and the sliding doors were open to the fields beyond. Secretly pleased with her accommodations, Sakura lay there for a long time, watching the moonlight on the fringed tops of the rice fields. It was so peaceful, she drifted off to sleep faster than she thought possible.

Some hours later, the pleasant sound of wind wooshed gently through the trees that ringed the fields. Sakura stirred, turning and her coverlet and stretching out in the expectation of the cool breeze to come, but she never fully wakened.

She was pulled from her dreamy haze several minutes by the sound of a voice. The little girl's voice. So faint at first, Sakura thought it was part of a dream.

"I knew…. I said so and…. I knew it…."

Still groggy with sleep, Sakura pushed herself up to listen. The voice faded away, and Sakura smiled, thinking the girl must be talking in her sleep. She stretched out her legs, about to lay back down, when it started again.

"I knew you'd come. I knew it…."

Sakura's brows knit together. She sat up again.

"She said you didn't…but I knew you would—" her little voice dissolved into a yawn, "come…."

Sakura frowned. It was almost like she was having a conversation. How strange…she must be dreaming. Sakura decided to check on her and put her back to bed.

She crept down the hall, hearing more snatches of words and sleepy giggles. But as she came up next to the door, another voice, soft and urgent, drifted out.

"Come on sweetie, we have to go…."

Sakura froze. She held her breathe.

"I knew you'd come…. I knew you'd come…."

There was the rustle of blankets, feet on the floor. "Please…we have to hurry…."

Sakura's heart pounded in her throat. Someone was trying to take the girl right out from underneath her.

Hot fury spiked inside. But she had the advantage. Sakura crouched low at the door and waited till the heavier footsteps were close to the door. She sprung into the room, catching the assailant from below and driving a fist straight up into his chin as she came up.

The man staggered back, flopping the girl onto her cot. But he caught himself before he crashed into the wall. Good reflexes, Sakura thought, probably a shinobi.

The girl sat wide-eyed on the bed, transfixed by the activity, and strangely…happy.

Sakura growled at the dark shape in the corner, "If you think going to take her, then you'll have to go through me—"

"Sa-Sakura?"

Sakura stopped cold, recognizing the voice. But it was the familiar form of Sasuke that stepped out of the shadow and into the dimly lit room.

The girl giggled. "See! I knew he'd come!"

Sakura shook her head. _Katsuro._ Part of her felt like she was still sleep-fogged…but another part was awakening to the nightmare in front of her. "W-What are you doing here?" She had a sick feeling she already knew the answer.

"Sakura," he gulped, "it's not what you think." He stepped towards her.

She couldn't speak. She reflexively reached for the child before the she could dart to her favorite. The _impostor_ of her teammate.

"I can protect her. I can—"

Sakura stepped backwards, watching him warily. Everything crashing down on her at once. The lies, the secrets, how he never wanted to tell her anything about what he was doing…. Had he been lying in wait, stringing her on about the girl all this time?

A creak of wood floor sounded somewhere in the house. "What are all those others doing here?" the child said, smiling, looking past Sakura and out the door.

_Just what else was he lying about?_

"And my missions?" she gasped suddenly. "Did you have something to do with that?"

"You've got to believe me. I had no choice. But I—" he said, stepping into shadow. When he came back into the half-light, the henge had dropped. He looked like Katsuro again.

The child instinctively recoiled at the sight of this stranger. Sakura clamped her hands down on the girl's shoulders, moving them as one, backwards. "Ow," she whimpered in confusion.

Katsuro kept coming, clutching at the fabric at his chest and imploring, "But I can protect her, Sakura. I can keep her safe."

She shook her head, feeling sick. "I trusted you. I believed you. I—" Hot tears blurred her vision. "But it was all lies, wasn't it?" An angry sob escaped. "How could you—"

The girl screeched suddenly and threw her hands to her ears. "Their hurting, make it stop!"

"Give her to me! Please! It doesn't have to be like this!" he cried desperately.

Sakura wrenched them both backwards, away from Katsuro and out the door. But the girl screamed again, this time as if she were the one being hurt.

Shadows flickered at the other end of the hall, outside the grandparent's room. There was a cacophony of male voices, a smashing of furniture, then the low gutteral moan of a woman. The grandmother. They were being tortured.

"Sakura, please! Give her to me, then they'll stop!"

Sakura shook her head again, unable to speak. She was nearly dragging the girl who was clutching her head and sobbing blindly at her feet. She pulled her toward the open doors to the outside.

A deep voice echoed out from the chaos at the other end of the house. "It's going down!"

"Shit," Katsuro gasped. "They're not supposed to—"

An acrid, burning smell tainted the air. Ominous orange light flickered through the doors and glinted off the polished wood floors.

Sakura hooked the girl up underneath her arms, dragging her out. Katsuro came closer, saying something, but another voice filled the air.

The grandfather's voice roared above the din. _"Run!"_

But it suddenly was cut short.

Sakura gasped; the child howled with pain. Katsuro's shattered look told her what she already knew: His men had killed the grandparents.

"Please believe me," he said wretchedly, voice thick. "I never wanted any of this—" He was still coming, still reaching for her.

Sakura backed instantly from his touch, betrayal and horror melding into something else…. Adrenaline was kicking in.

Sakura hauled the girl up off the ground, not caring now if she hurt her, and hoisted her up like a sack of potatoes. She was just a few steps from the screen. Behind her was the wide open field. This was her only chance to—

"Get out now!" a voice yelled from outside.

Something frantic flickered in Katsuro's expression. It twisted in Sakura's gut, despite her anger at his betrayal, and spurred her on.

Sakura spun and launched out the exterior door. Katsuro was hard on her heels. She could only hope to slip out of his grasp.

They leapt nearly simultaneously from the open porch that ringed the house.

But just as his hand connected with her back — a desperately whispered _"Go!"_ floating through the darkness behind her — and the blue field opened up in front of her, so silent and safe and close…the house exploded around them.

Flaming wood and scalding air shot outwards in a single blinding moment. The force of the blast pitched their bodies into the air with the shattered timbers that were once a house…and then everything went black.

Ears ringing, eyes burning and everything aching, Sakura slowly came to on a pile of burning rubble. She coughed spasmodically. She could hear voices, smell smoke. Orange flames licked up from the debris around her. But in a moment of gut-wrenching clarity, she realized she was alone.

The little girl had been thrown from her arms.

Sakura ignored the pain and pushed herself up, wobbling unsteadily on the debris. Another explosion rocked the ground, but this time it was farther away and somewhat smaller. One of the outbuildings was burning steadily, an orange torch in the night. Sakura used the light to scan for the little girl, desperately hoping she would not find a small lifeless hand sticking from the rubble.

Instead a few blackened figures were rising up from the smoking debris and climbing towards her. Backlit from the burning buildings, their silhouettes looked menacing. Sakura knew instantly these were the men responsible for this destruction.

"There you are…." A malicious voice sounded up the pile of rubble in front of her. Sakura thought one of the shadowed men had found the girl. But when he climbed up onto the wood, his eyes were only on her.

The unholy light of the burning building splashed over him. Choppy black hair and a vicious smile…. He unsheathed a kunai from his leg holster. It smoked ominously. Sakura's eyes widened.

"That's right, sweetheart. Recognize me now? We have some unfinished business."

Sakura tightened her fists. This was the same man that had ambushed her on her last mission.

"Leave her alone!" Katsuro yelled across the debris. He was struggling against a large timber pinning him across his midsection.

"I'm here to make sure the job gets done," he yelled back cryptically. "But now I can kill two birds with one stone!"

Watching him warily, Sakura dropped into a crouch and wrapped her hand around a plank of splintered wood at her foot. She knew what was coming—

He flung the deadly kunai, smirking and never doubting it's aim, but was left blinking dumbly when Sakura swung the plank to block it. She pitched the board to the side, then gave a chakra-fueled kick to the smoldering pile of wood he was standing on. The man immediately toppled, smirk gone.

Sakura resumed her desperate search, but more figures were climbing out, hunting as well. Katsuro was pushing ineffectually and yelling at them to stop. Sakura wanted to weep, but she didn't. She had to find the girl. The men were getting closer.

She decided to use the unstable rubble to her advantage and buy some extra time. She'd use the punching technique Tsunade had taught her to send a shockwave through the debris and jolt the men off it.

Sakura hauled her fist back and concentrated on where to plant her chakra-charged punch. But she didn't see the shadow rising up behind her.

Katsuro's voice hurtled across the destruction. _"Wei! NO!"_

A scythe of twisted metal whistled toward her unprotected side. Fist raised, Sakura didn't see it until it was upon her. She desperately wrenched her torso away to keep the metal strip from plunging into her abdomen and cutting her down. But she was too late.

"_Sakura!"_

The jagged metal bit into her side, hooking into her gut and ripping her open. Sakura buckled in pain, her body flashing too many signals to process. Blood spurted out from the enormous gash, all warm and wrong, and cooler night air shot across the exposed skin that was still intact.

"Gotcha," the man said as he climbed up next to her. She could hear that vicious smile in his voice.

But something else was blurring through Sakura's mind….

_Wei. Katsuro called him Wei. This was the man who attacked her before. Katsuro spoke to him. Katsuro knew him…._

Doubled-over, Sakura held her arm over her gut, trying vainly to hold in her life's fluids which were now spattering down her legs. She reeled at the precipice of the smoldering pile. The taste of blood was in her mouth. She was going cold, and she knew she was going into shock. But all she could think of was Katsuro. _Katsuro…. _

She could still hear him out there, enraged, but his screams sounded watery in her ears. She spit out blood.

_She had been so wrong about him. And now she was going to pay the price—_

Wei pulled her head back by her hair and growled down into her face, "Didn't I tell you, all things must come to an end?"

Then he kicked her so hard in the chest it sent her flying backwards off the smoking mound. Her body tumbled, as soft and lifeless as a child's doll, over the edge and out of sight.

* * *

The scene unfolded in front of Katsuro like a nightmare, like a genjutsu even Itachi could never dream up. Wei rose up from the darkness and plunged a twisted shard of roof metal into Sakura's exposed side.

Katsuro's anguished scream scattered unheard across the debris. Then Wei kicked her over the side. Blood arced from Sakura's lifeless body.

And Katsuro had been powerless to stop any of it.

"NO!" he roared, and something inside of him ripped to life. It seared through his chest, burning him up from the inside out. In the heat, the scene in front of him wavered. The blackened timbers blurred into twisted bars. The world was drenched in blood red.

Katsuro kicked off the beam, shredding it with his foot. He climbed over the wreckage, crushing wood under his grip, feeling as if he were free of something holding him back. As if a door inside had blown open. And he was finally to destroy as he knew only he could. As he knew they _deserved_.

He breathed in this terrifying power, fearing it…but craving it even more.

He roared again in a voice that was not his own. Malevolent chakra rushed away from where he stood in a searing wind, speeding in all directions. The men atop the debris scurried to get away, but Katsuro dropped to all fours.

He did not so much as see the men as he felt their life's presence…just pulsing spots glowing on the blackened piles. Blood rushed in ears. That pulsing set his heart racing at an unfamiliar pace. His teeth felt sharp and ready to bite, his hands felt ready to rip and tear…. He wanted to snuff those lives out.

He leapt, moving like a blur of orange flame, tearing through each pulsing spot. The last one, _Wei_ a memory whispered, he ripped in two, savoring the gurgle of his last breath. He crouched over the shattered body and growled again, feral and deep. Another blast of burning chakra exploded outward.

But the man's death wasn't enough. The demon wanted more.

From the burning barn came a few startled screams. But as more men saw the figure rising from the smoke — the lines of the boy's body bending and twisting under a malicious cloak of orange chakra, tails flicking out like flames behind him — the screams turned to horror.

"_Demon!_"

Red slit eyes turned at the direction of the name. He growled and leapt, flying like a spark against the blue night sky, and disappearing into the fragmented remains of the farmhouse and the blackened outbuildings.

And it all exploded into an unholy bonfire.

Orange waves of fire and chakra bellowed into the air. Timbers shattered in the heat of the intense fire, sending white hot sparks showering down into the fields and igniting more fires. The whole area lit up like daylight.

But the screams of 'demon' were finally extinguished.

* * *

A downburst of hot, chakra-charged wind pushed over the wreckage of the farm, down the smoldering debris pile and raked over Sakura before dissipating into the forest. It was nauseating, but it pulled Sakura out of the blackness.

Struggling to stay conscious, Sakura was hit by the wave of thick malicious chakra. Her lungs filled with scorching air. She convulsed, rolled her head to the side and gagged a little, but her mouth thick was with blood and saliva.

She slid her fingers across her bloody stomach, carefully tracing the edge of the wound with her fingers. There an angry tear across the right half of her midsection. She closed her eyes and breathed against the pain, trying to examine how deep the wound went.

She exhaled shakily. It seemed fate was on her side this time.

When her attacker lunged and she moved to dodge him, the debris beneath her shifted. It lessened the blow, by just enough. It was a severe wound, but one she might survive from….

Another wave of chakra sped out. It was so oppressive it was disorienting. Sakura moaned and pushed herself up, realizing that she was in more field than debris pile. She had been thrown clear of the wreckage.

A weak moan came up from the out in the field beside her. Sakura stilled and listened again.

Miraculously, a little foot shifted from beneath a broad plank. Tears of disbelief blurred Sakura's eyes. Another push of chakra scoured the land. Sakura held on until it passed, but the little girl moaned pitifully. The foot moved again.

The rush of adrenaline helped focus Sakura on what she needed to do. Get the girl, then get as far away from here as she could.

She made her way to the girl and crouched to pull the flat boards off. Sakura gingerly lifted her, clutching her limp body to her, not caring that the child was pressing into her pulsing wound, making the bleeding start anew.

Sakura pushed her fingers into the child, sensing quickly that she was alive, but nothing else. There would be time enough to assess her later. Right now, they had to get out.

A blast of hot wind whipped her. Sakura huddled with the child and waited till it passed. Blood loss and shock and malicious chakra fought against her body and she reeled for a moment. But the warm life in her arms kept her to her purpose. She gulped against the nausea and forced herself to move.

Behind her, there were shouts…no, screams…. At the treeline, Sakura glanced back. She could just make out figures running against the raging firelight.

Katsuro was there, she thought, fighting in the midst of that orange fury. She bit her lip and held in a sob.

_But it was all a lie. All of it. This child in her arms was proof of that._

An unearthly growl rumbled from the destruction. Sakura knew another blast was coming. She turned and disappeared into the forest.

* * *

The predawn sky was as purple and blue as a bruise. Sasuke and Sai padded through the forest without a word. Neither spoke. There was never a need. They completed their missions methodically and returned home.

They moved through the canopy. Only the first birdsongs were just beginning to pierce the silent, still-dark woods.

Sai saw her first, but it was Sasuke who recognized she wasn't a civilian, but a shinobi, moving dreadfully slow on the forest floor…and carrying a body….

They dropped down through the trees, circling around to identify her nationality since there was no headband—

If Sai wasn't with him, Sasuke would have been sure he'd seen a ghost. Cold seized him, his stomach felt like it might heave.

Could this be…. Could this be an Uchiha?

He dropped straight down in front of the woman, landing with an uncharacteristic thud on the path. He startled her so deeply she jerked. The small arms and legs protruding from her clutched arms shook limply.

It wasn't a ghost…. It was a nightmare…it had to be….

In front of him stood Sakura, but her face was stark white. And her hair, it looked black and nearly glossy…. Or was it wet….

In her arms was a dead child, covered in blood.

_She's one of the Uchiha clan…from that night…._

"Sasuke…Sasuke help me…" the apparition wheezed, staggering towards him.

But Sasuke was frozen in shock. Not even Sai's horrified gasp beside him could rouse him.

Cold fingers gripped his heart. He couldn't move, couldn't feel. He could only stare she stumbled forward and pushed the child at him. "Help…help me…."

It wasn't until she was upon him, dumping the bundle into him, that Sasuke moved his arms reflexively. Catching the child, he was immediately surprised to discover that it was warm…and still alive.

But it was covered with blood—

His eyes fell to Sakura's gut, where she had been holding the child so closely. There was a wound…no a tear…no a _gaping hole_ in the middle of her body.

Realization crashed down on him then. It wasn't the child's blood, it was Sakura's.

A relieved expression flickered on Sakura's face as she fell forward into Sasuke as well. Her eyes rolled back into her head, then she was gone.

Gripping the child in one arm, Sasuke used his body to keep Sakura from sliding to the ground.

His heart restarted. _This wasn't a dream. Sakura was near death. They had to get her to Tsunade._

He pushed the child into Sai's arms, hoisted up Sakura and they flew to Konoha faster than either of them had moved in their lives.

* * *

**Author's Notes**

Patient readers, I'm sorry there's so much time between chapters! But to make up for it, I make sure they're good and long. Special thanks to Witchymage and Ernie on DA — your words really keep me afloat. They're truly a gift. And my heartfelt thanks to everyone who reviews - I try to respond to as many as I can. But if I missed you, please know that I read each and every one, and truly appreciate it! As usual, check out the website for extra notes, spoilers, updates and previews.

**Chapter Notes**

Alright! This chapter is definitely darker than anything else so far. I told you it was going to get bumpy! But seriously, this is my exploration of aspects of the characters that are glossed over in the manga. Realistically, if Katsuro/Naruto were a shinobi in a real-world scenario, then he would be expected to kill. And if he housed a blood-thirsty demon inside, then he wouldn't have much choice in the matter. But still, as an author who loves her characters, I find myself wishing it wasn't so, even though this scene has been planned from the beginning. Eh, well. I've tried to write them honestly. But I'm curious to see how everyone receives this chapter. Too dark? Too scary? Or just right?

I don't want Katsuro to be a hero because that's his role — I want him to be the hero because he overcomes ridiculous odds and makes good choices where others make bad ones. I don't want Sakura to be strong because that's her role, but instead because she perseveres in the face of adversity that would put any else under. So to get to that end, I have to put them through the ringer. Anyway, it's harder than I thought! I'm definitely going to have to write some fluffly one-shots to counteracts these chapters! ;)

• Chapter title - So, if you remember, the chapter titles correspond with one another. Chapter 1-Taken/Chatper 15-Returned. Chapter 18-Whole/Chapter 31-Cracked. It was meant to seem like "Cracked" was the antithesis to "Whole." But really it was just the hairline cracks that come before something is broken beyond repair. "Shattered" is just that, when things for Sakura and Katsuro are irrevocably broken.

• _Sasuke watched one scrawny boy eyeing the other suspiciously. He had a bright red ball tucked under his arm. And it was drawing a lot of attention._ — So, I wrote this just as a background story, but the more I wrote, the more I realized the kid was a lot like Sasuke in this vignette. Selfishly holding onto his toy as Sasuke was selfishly holding onto his success at getting assigned missions. It was meant to be a situation to showcase Sakura's good nature for Sasuke, thereby helping him transition to a more friendly relationship later. But it ended up reflecting quite a bit about Sasuke as well.

• "_So…. See anything you like?" Sasuke fished in his pocket past the scroll and pulled out a coin. He pressed it into the man's leathery hand. "I'll take an apple."_ — Sasuke likes apples. Katsuro likes oranges. The two are as different as…. You get the picture! :) And it's important later, when Sakura thinks she sees Katsuro because of the orange in the lane.

• _Sakura leaned back against the base of the great wall, cooling off in it's shade. Head tipped back, she watched the swallows swooping and diving, arching up over the highest stones and disappearing into the dusky sky._ — This mirrors Naruto's time as a boy in the village as a child, watching the bats swoop and dive over the wall and wishing he were as free as they were.

• _The leaves rustled gently around him, and the steady knocking of the river floated up. The town was known for its hot springs, and the watery sounds permeated everything._ — This is the location of Sakura's first big diplomatic mission, to the town with the hot springs where she met Katsuro in the bamboo thicket.

• _Wiping his nose on the back of his hand, the lanky teen picked up the sacks of trash to haul out the back door of the pathetic roadside watering-hole._ — This is the restaurant where Wei connects with the diplomat in Chapter 30. The line of that vignette starts _"The lanky teen wiped his nose on the back of his hand."_ So there is some continuity there.

• _Katsuro shuddered inwardly. It was Kisame._ — So, I want to paint the Akatsuki members as really being terrifying. Katsuro is surrounded by killer men/ninjas every day. But I want to convey the fact that the Akatsuki members are freakishly powerful. And utterly terrifying.

• _Kisame and the others of the Akatsuki were monsters, and no matter what Itachi said in praise of their 'unfathomable powers,' Katsuro vowed he would never be like that._ — This reference an earlier quote by Itachi, praising the Akatsuki's powers and suggesting that Katsuro would find some affinity in them, because he also had a monster in him and was shunned by the community he came from. But also, this foreshadows the end of the chapter, when Katsuro loses control of the "monster" within. And it's also a bit of foreshadowing for the future, when Katsuro eventually becomes member of Akatsuki himself.

• _Some hours later, the pleasant sound of wind wooshed gently through the trees that ringed the fields. Sakura stirred, turning and her coverlet and stretching out in the expectation of the cool breeze to come, but she never fully wakened._ — the sound of wind in the trees covers their movements. Itachi and Katsuro have both used it.

• _Hot fury spiked inside. But she had the advantage. Sakura crouched low at the door and waited till the heavier footsteps were close to the door. She sprung into the room, catching the assailant from below and driving a fist straight up into his chin as she came up._ — This was one of the first moves Katsuro taught her when they were in the temple together. So it's fitting that she uses it here to knock him down.

• "_NO!" he roared, and something inside of him ripped to life. It seared through his chest, burning him up from the inside out. In the heat, the scene in front of him wavered. The blackened timbers blurred into twisted bars._ — Katsuro is breaking out of the debris, at the same time the kyuubi is breaking through the cage that holds him. So it is meant to look like broken-down cell doors.

• _That pulsing set his heart racing at an unfamiliar pace. His teeth felt sharp and ready to bite, his hands felt ready to rip and tear…. He wanted to snuff those lives out._ — So instead of going through the grocery list of physical changes, I'm going more for how it feels. Scary and feral.

• _But the man's death wasn't enough. The demon wanted more._ — So, initially Katsuro still held some tiny amount of control. But the demon takes over. And at this point Katsuro is gone and the kyuubi is in control. He is very much like the four-tails in the manga. And as with Akatusuki, I want kyuubified Naruto to be really scary. Terrifying. So it will seem like Naruto has a lot more in common with the Akatsuki members than with standard village ninjas.


	33. Inner Demons

I am a wing….  
I am the wing of a bird….  
I am the wing of the bird that has left…. And will not return.

* * *

**Chapter 33 — Inner Demons**

Inoichi stood in the middle of the barn and surveyed the haggard faces of the old farmers around him. Konoha's interrogation team was methodically working the room: two anbu agents interviewed the old men, while two of his Yamanaka clansmen were performing the mental scans. A lone anbu was checking the perimeter of the building for any overlooked clues. He ducked down the line of stalls, opening each door and poking at the hay. But so far, nothing conclusive had been uncovered.

Sinking his hands in his pockets, Inoichi looked up at the rafters, trying to piece together everything in his mind.

Apparently after the fire at the nearby farm, the neighboring farmers had managed to find a survivor and drag him here to wait for help to arrive.

Inoichi closed his eyes and breathed deeply, inhaling everything he could about his surroundings. The sweet hay, the tang of animal sweat…and the singed smell of the whoever was brought here, probably bound and gagged, and dropped right where he stood. He shifted his feet in the straw and opened his eyes.

And those were all the facts he knew. The rest was conjecture.

They had canvassed the site looking for remains and a motive. But there were none. And the fire had burned so hot there was nothing left of the old couple that had lived there.

The neighbors gave wildly varying reports of the fiery scene. Sometimes there were many men, sometimes it was just one.

Tsunade's hunch was that this was the work of shinobis, possibly from an unknown country targeting Konoha. And Inoichi's team was sent to uncover proof, one way or the other. Certainly the survival of an assailant and his subsequent disappearance pointed to shinobis. But the memories attached to the event were conflicting, and that was a problem.

Some farmers remembered a black-haired man being hauled into the barn. Others recalled a brown-haired man. Inoichi himself conducted the scans of the most detailed memories, trying to decipher which version was true. But unfortunately, the mental images that came forth supported their all claims. Whatever they remembered, the old farmers were certain of it.

Whether it was accurate was another matter entirely.

But one memory stood out from the rest. And that still bothered him. It was different and buried so deep that he almost missed it. Almost.

Inoichi's gaze roved over the interlocking beams inside the barn. His long ponytail swayed softly as he thought.

There was a blurry picture of a boy — a teen — being carried into a barn. Whether it was this barn, he knew not. Nor could he be certain it even had anything do with _this_ situation. It might have even been from the old man's youth. But the image was there nonetheless…a teen, bare-chested and lifeless, was hauled into a barn in the midst of a crowd of people. In the looping fragment of memory, a slant of torchlight cut across the youth. And for a moment his hair looked almost…yellow. Then the shoulders of men blocked out the view and the image faded away.

Inoichi returned to the memory several times, but it never changed, not in the slightest. That meant that, like the rest of them, the farmer believed in what he saw.

And that gave Inoichi pause.

In his experience, if he could find a pattern in the memories, it usually pointed to the truth. No matter how disjointed the images were. And he admitted to himself that it was probably the case here as well. The majority of these men believed the attacker was dark-haired. And it was probably just an anomaly….

But he couldn't let it go.

Because for him it wasn't just about finding signs of espionage as Tsunade had instructed. He was looking for someone else. A blond-haired boy, about his daughter's age.

He shifted his feet on the dirt floor again. _Could he have been here? Right where I'm standing?_

Inoichi swiveled his gaze to the group around him. Old farmers and farm hands, tired and ready to go back to their lives.

_Why would someone come here and tamper with their memories? What was worth that effort? And who could have done it so thoroughly, so quickly and completely that they didn't leave a trace?_

There was only one man who had the motive and, more importantly, the skill. But Inoichi had been more than thorough, and he'd not detected a trace of Itachi Uchiha's presence. At least, not the Itachi he had known. But perhaps he had learned to mask it somehow. Perhaps he should look again—

A stall door slammed. A family of roosting pigeons burst out of the rafters toward the open loft door, shattering the light.

Inoichi relaxed his hands in the pockets of his long coat. _Or was he simply projecting his own desires onto the witness, then getting back a false image of something he so desperately wanted to see—_

The anbu agent dashed down the row of stalls, breathless. A headband fluttered from his hand. "Sir, I just found this under the hay at the last stall. It was near the back entrance. If they brought him through there, it might have fallen—"

Inoichi took the blood-soaked, soot-stained headband and flipped it over. The silver badge was filthy and scuffed as if it had been walked over, but the proof was etched clearly in the metal. "Mist."

_It was just as Tsunade suspected. _

Inoichi dropped the headband into his pocket and refocused. "Alright, that's it. We've got what we came for. Let's wrap up."

And he let the looping image of a lifeless blond boy being dragged into a barn fade from his mind.

* * *

The hospital door slowly creaked open. Sensing it wasn't Tsunade or one of the nurses — who always seemed to throw back the door as if they lived there — Sasuke kept the hand curled over his face and pretended to still be asleep.

Two sets of feet shuffled in. He peered through the cracks in his fingers. _Sakura's parents._ Now he was glad he had feigned sleep.

Sakura's parents had come often those first two days. They'd looked at her prone figure, cried, lamented to each other her choice of career, thanked him — which he detested — then went away again. Sakura wasn't aware of any of it.

He supposed this third night would be more of the same. He sunk down a little in the stiff chair, furthering his charade, and closed his eyes.

But as soon as he shut them, images splashed across his mind: The not-dead child, small and bloody in his arms. Sakura in the forest, hovering in front of him like a ghost. Then in the hospital, the way her limp hand fell off the gurney and he was sure she was dead. Sure he'd been to late again, too late to save her…or to save any of them…. Then Sakura's face melded into a dead Uchiha's, pale and blood-soaked and begging for his help…. But he was always too late….

Sasuke sucked in sharp breath and snapped open his eyes.

_Sakura was in the bed. Her parents were there. She had lived._ He blew out slowly.

Tsunade had ordered him to stay. "For observation," she'd said. Even though he wasn't wounded.

But he'd agreed. He found he didn't want to leave anyway. So he'd had sat there, wearing the same clothes, smelling of her and covered in her blood. And he'd waited for Tsunade to miraculously put her back together again.

At one point Tsunade appeared in the doorway with a look of sympathy. "She's strong. She'll pull through," she'd said. Even though he'd never asked.

But he guessed her medic skills must have extended to things unseen as well. She didn't push him to change clothes or leave or get some sleep. She must have known the things even he didn't want to admit. That he didn't want to go to his apartment, so close to the old Uchiha compound. That he thought he was seeing things. That he didn't want Sakura to die…alone….

But a day later, Sakura was finally brought back to the room. Tsunade was right. She had lived.

Bandaged and white, wiped clean of the blood and soot and death that she came in with, Sakura looked somewhat like herself again. Sasuke watched the rise and fall of the sheets, and somehow sleep finally claimed him.

The rest of the time was a blur of sleeping and waking, of checkups and visitors. Tsunade's voice cut through his sleep-fog at some point. "Do not wake him. Let him stay where he is."

The soft whimper of her parents was another oft-heard sound. He spoke to them the first time. But after they thanked him profusely — "You protected her! You saved her! She's taken on too much. What would we have done if you weren't there?" — he made sure he was "sleeping" whenever they came in again.

And this third night was no different. Sasuke watched them through his fingers, standing over her, talking softly, hands clasped in parental worry—

But this time there was a response. At first just a whisper of fabric on fabric. The sheets moved with her restless legs. Then, there was a deep gasp, as if someone had finally come up for air. Sasuke's hand fell away from his face.

Sakura was awake.

"Okasan…Otosan…." she rasped.

They leaned over her excitedly, words of care and admonishment tumbling out in a rush.

"We were so worried. The Hokage herself came to see to you. She's a great lady, and if she wasn't here then, I don't…I don't know what might have…." The mother dissolved into tears. She put her hand to her mouth to stop a loud sob.

Her father continued. "Daughter, how do you feel?"

Sakura slowly touched her stomach, then exhaled as if winded by even that small movement. "Very sore," she said weakly.

"The Hokage says it will take a long time to heal. But she is certain you will make a full recovery."

"The little girl…."

"She is fine. Banged up, but fine. She's in another part of the hospital." Sakura smiled tiredly. But her father's brows furrowed. "What were you doing out there? By yourself? You could have been—"

"If your teammate hadn't saved you…." Her parent's eyes drifted gratefully over to Sasuke.

Across the room, Sasuke stiffened. But it was no use. They knew he was awake now. He dropped his hand to his lap.

Sakura carefully turned her head. She blinked slowly. "Sasuke…. Thank you…."

He nodded once, but said nothing. He wished he didn't see the purple under her eyes or the lingering rust of dried blood at her hairline that the nurses had missed when they cleaned her up. He selfishly wished she looked as strong as Tsunade said she was. But she didn't. She looked frail and weak.

"Yes if it wasn't for your friend…." Her mother's voice broke again, but she rallied with a new thought. "Now will you believe us? Can't you see this is foolish," she pleaded, eyes shining. "This shinobi business is just not for you. You nearly got yourself killed." The woman shook her head resolutely. "Just stay here, work in the hospital. Where you're safe. Where _you_ can save others, and not the other way around—"

"But Okasan…I saved a little girl…."

"And it nearly got you killed!" A maternal firmness was creeping into her voice. This was clearly well-worn topic. "What you did was too dangerous! You should have just left her there. I know you want always want to save everyone Sakura, but you just can't…. You can't even save yourself!"

Sasuke stood suddenly. "I should go."

Her parents turned their heads together, suddenly remembering someone else was there. Sakura did not look up.

"I should, uh…. I mean, you should have some time alone your daughter." The parents' heaped more praise on him. Sasuke ducked under it and moved swiftly for the door, but he shot a last glance at Sakura. Her smile was gone, and it almost looked like a tear had streaked down her face. But it might have been a trick of the light. He didn't stop to find out.

Finally outside the hospital, Sasuke felt like he could breathe again. Frustration was threatening to suffocate him in there. He looked up at the blackened sky with unexpected relief. Strangely the village surroundings seemed a little friendlier than they did a few days ago when felt like he was living a waking nightmare.

Now he was glad to be outside and thought for the first time that he didn't really want to go back into the little hospital room. Even if Sakura was there.

He glanced back up at the building, picking out the light in her room. He saw the silhouettes of her parents. _And especially if they were still there._

Sasuke frowned and found a dark bench to sit down and mull what he'd just witnessed.

He could probably count on one hand the number of times he'd seen Sakura's parents. The were civilians, doing some modest job in the village, he couldn't remember what…. But the thought that they might not support her as a shinobi came as a shock.

_If they didn't, then did that mean she had come all this way on her own? Her shinobi work? The exams? Her apprenticeship to Tsuande? All in the face of censure?_

The idea was completely foreign to him.

The hospital doors slid open. Sasuke sat back into the shadows. Her parents walked out, so deep in quiet conversation they didn't notice him, and turned towards their home.

Sasuke looked back up to Sakura's still-glowing window and imagined here in there, alone. Again, he found himself growing irrationally angry with her parents.

_How could they leave her? And how did they end that visit? Did they go happily? Give her a hug? Tell her they loved her? That they were glad she was even alive?_

"They don't even know what they have," he muttered bitterly and turned away from the window to stare unseeing at the street.

He couldn't remember if they'd even touched her. Sasuke folded his arms over his chest. That was the worst, he admitted to himself. When you were alone, no one ever touched you. He didn't have it. And he knew Sai didn't either.

He realized it had been strangely comforting to think Sakura was the normal one. That she had something they didn't.

But maybe she had been alone all this time too. Underneath it all, maybe she was really just like them. But instead of turning to anger or isolation, she channeled her energy into her work.

He didn't like thinking about these things. He wanted her to be healthy and stubbornly strong. Not scolded. Not weak and doubting. Not half-dead and looking like those old ghosts that were never far behind him….

Someone appeared at her window. Sasuke turned and caught sight of a nurse carrying a tray. It was dinner time. Someone was checking on her, bringing her food and folding her back into normal life. He felt less guilty about leaving her alone.

Which was good. Because he knew he really didn't want to go in there again. Not right now anyway. He didn't like these discoveries. And he didn't like the thought that deep down maybe she was more like him than he cared to admit.

Sasuke stamped out the thoughts and walked back to his apartment in silence.

* * *

The brilliant midday sun streamed through the window. But it's cheery light didn't touch Sakura. She sat on the bed and stared out quietly. She was fully dressed, but only because it made her feel better. She still wasn't discharged yet. Even with the daily exercises and healing therapies, she wasn't making the progress everyone expected of her.

Although no one had actually told her that. They didn't need to. She could see it in their faces. These were her coworkers, after all.

She didn't care. Not really. She knew herself the real wound was too deep to be treated. She felt broken inside. And she didn't know how she'd ever be whole again.

Tears brimmed in her eyes. The bright view of Konoha outside her window swam in front of her. She crushed her eyes shut and pushed the back on waves of regret….

"No one can know," she told herself again. "No one can ever know."

And she vowed to never speak his name again.

_He was a rogue and she was a fool. But whose was the greater betrayal? That he had lied to her the whole time? Or that she had ruined lives because of her deception? The little girl…and her poor, sweet grandparents…._

Sakura twisted her hand in the sheet and swallowed a sob. _She was such a fool—_

A sharp rap sounded at the door. Sakura swiped at her eyes and buried her emotions.

"Come in," she called, forcing brightness into her voice and donning a false smile to match.

Sai entered, followed by Sasuke. Sakura's smile turned brittle.

Sai frowned at her immediately. "Sakura-san, is this a bad time?" Sasuke looked up finally, his black eyes only darting to her face for a moment before the alighted on something else in the room.

_Anything else. As long as it wasn't her,_ she thought meanly.

She shifted her focus back to Sai and said breezily, "Oh just a hard therapy session this morning, that's all."

Sai shot her a skeptical look, but didn't push for more. He came across the room and sat in the only chair. Sasuke stood stiffly, looking like had somewhere else to be.

Sakura growled inwardly. She hated it when he came. He always made her feel worse. Thankfully he didn't come by very often. Usually it was either Sai or Kakashi or Ino. And only _sometimes_ Sasuke came with them. Never alone. Thank goodness.

"Sasuke…uh, can I have the nurse bring you another chair?" Sakura said with veiled sarcasm. She knew his answer. He shook his head briskly.

She gave her full attention back to Sai and ignored Sasuke completely.

"So, any word on your release?"

Her polite smile fell.

"Next week, they say, if I'm showing more progress." She shrugged.

"And do you think you will?"

She shrugged again, her shoulders slumping a little more.

"When you get out, I thought maybe we could train together. Make it a regular thing…."

Sakura hitched an eyebrow up at his request. It was suspiciously like what Ino had said when she dropped by the evening before. And neither of them were "train together" sort of people. Ino didn't want to, and she knew for a fact that Sai didn't 'train' with anyone. He had such specialized skills he didn't need to.

Another thought occurred to her.

"Sai, did Kakashi-sensei put you up to this?" Ino had vehemently denied it, even though Sakura knew she hated training. But Sai—

"Yes, of course," he said plainly.

Sakura shook her head at his lack of social graces. She rubbed a hand over her face. Anger and exhaustion sparked somewhere inside. The last thing she wanted was pity. She'd brought this all on herself—

"But that doesn't mean I don't want to," he said, tilting his head and blinking and looking at her so earnestly that her anger left her.

"Fine," she said grudgingly. "As long as I don't slow you down—"

The floor nurse came to the open door. "Haruno-san, time for your afternoon meds."

Sai stood quickly, promising they'd start next week. Sasuke was already out the door. _She didn't care._ Sakura threw back the pills and gulped down the water. _She'd rather be alone anyway._

But they did not start the next week. There was another setback. Some of the sutures reopened in her physical therapy, and she was back to wearing hospital clothes and having the bandages changed twice a day. And she was confined to the bed until the wound healed more sufficiently. Tsunade's orders.

But the situation was worse than any of them knew. Sakura felt like she'd fallen down a well. She hated sitting in bed, she hated herself, and she told the nurses she didn't want to see anyone else. Not until she was better. The nurses looked at her with sympathy, but they followed her wishes and put the yellow card by her name on the door with "No Visitors" written in thick black marker.

So it was a surprise to hear a quiet tap and look up to see Sasuke — and Sasuke alone — standing in the door on the fourth day of her bedrest.

It was not a surprise she wanted. "I told them no visitors," she said flatly.

"I know," he said quietly, and walked in the room as if she'd just asked him in instead. He sat down in Sai's chair.

Sasuke looked at her, then looked around them room as if he'd never seen it before. The silence drew out and Sakura grew irritated. _If he was just going to sit there then—_

"How do you feel?"

She blinked. She felt like throwing something at him. But she didn't. "It's been three weeks. How do you think I feel?"

He didn't answer.

More silence stretched out between them. Her anger mounted.

"Sai and Kakashi-sensei are on a mission."

"Oh, are they." Bitterness laced her words. "And you didn't go?"

Sasuke didn't seem to even notice her ire. "No, I'm not…. That is…I uh, wasn't on the roster." He glanced at her once, then cut his eyes away. "You know why," he said quietly.

Sakura stared at him, wondering why he was here. And just _how_ had he gotten past the front desk. Another thought struck her.

"You didn't use your sharingan on the nurses did you?!"

"No! I would never—"

"Then why are you here? 'No visitors allowed,'" Sakura said, biting off every word and pointing to her name on the door. But the yellow card had mysteriously disappeared. She did a double-take, then frowned thunderously as if somehow it was the door's fault. "Well, it was there. _And_ it was on my chart—"

"The nurse downstairs told me to come. In fact, she looked at your chart and said you _needed_ some visitors."

_Those conspiring hens at the front desk._ Sakura rolled her eyes. She was sick of being doted on. And worse was that she knew deep down she didn't deserve it. She went to fold her arms in front of her in a huff, but then remembered her injury and dropped them back to her sides, more frustrated than before.

She glared at Sasuke. But when he said nothing, Sakura decided she'd had enough.

"Well…. So, thanks for the visit," she said, mockingly polite. "I'm still here, as you can see. So…thanks for stopping by…."

But Sasuke didn't budge.

"Sakura, I…I came to tell you that if you need help, you know…after all this…." He waved his hand vaguely at her, looking more uncomfortable with each word. "I'm available too. You know, like what Sai said."

Outraged fury uncorked inside Sakura. "Did Kakashi put you up to this as well!? Well thanks, but I don't need your pity—"

"Kakashi didn't put me up to this!" Sasuke sputtered indignantly. "I came on my own!"

"Oh right, cause we've always gotten along so well together. Even Sai doesn't want to work with me. Kakashi had to _order_ him." Sasuke finally looked like he always did. Mad. Which made some part of her feel better. She was sick of him walking on eggshells around her. "I don't need your sympathy and…I don't need your help," she added viciously.

They glared at each other, but a sharp rap at the door broke their stalemate. Sasuke stood just as three nurses swept into the room with a rolling cart.

He backed against the wall to make room. "You're fine where you are," the first one said. "This will only take a moment."

He glanced at the door like he might try to leave, but he was blocked in by the cart. So he stood there, looking ridiculous.

The last nurse chuckled. "Oh it's not that bad. We just have to change her bandages. Have a seat." She dropped her voice to a teasing whisper meant for Sakura to hear. "Besides, she could use the company." But Sasuke didn't move.

Sakura glared at all of them now. The three nurses only grinned back. So Sakura jutted her chin away from all of them, and hiked her shirt up her ribcage without a word.

Once the gauzy white bandage wrapped around her midsection was exposed, then all teasing ceased. The nurses went to work, moving around each other like a well-oiled machine.

The first nurse cut the bandage away, slowly revealing a puckered rust-colored wound across Sakura's stomach. The second nurse inspected the wound, gently prodding the red and weeping spots where the sutures had worked free.

Biting her lip with each little stab of pain, Sakura turned her head back to the room. When the nurses moved she caught a glimpse of Sasuke, still standing against the back wall. His face was tight and he stared so hard at the ceiling he looked as if he expected an assailant to drop through at any moment.

Sakura watched him, her pain slowly fading to the background.

The nurse walked back with the old bandage, one side rusty with blood and medicinal ointments. Sasuke glanced down, then looked at the ceiling even harder.

The nurse must have noticed. "Oh it's much better than it was!"

"I know," he said, voice tight.

Sakura thought he looked like a family member of a patient. Not a hardened shinobi used to this sort of thing, even inflicting it—

She gasped at the sudden smear of cold across her middle. "Sorry," the nurse in front of her said. Her hand was poised over the wound and slathered in a medical salves. "Should have warned you."

Sakura grit her teeth for the next swipe and looked up again. This time Sasuke's attention was fixed on her wound. The nurse moved her hand back to scoop up more of the salve and Sasuke winced. He quickly turned to the window.

Understanding crashed down on her. She'd seen it a thousand times with other patients. Sasuke didn't like blood. That's why he was acting so weird. And that's why he hadn't come.

Her view was blocked by the bustling nurses. They were finishing up, wiping everything down, then preparing for the rewrap. With one woman at either side, they wrapped a fresh length of gauzy material around Sakura's waist, around and around, then tucked it in at the back.

"Alright, take it easy, Sakura-san," the last nurse out said as she pushed the cart out the door. She glanced once at Sakura's nameplate, but kept going.

Sasuke and Sakura were alone. The room was as uncomfortably quiet as it had been before. But Sakura's anger had flown as fast as it had come on.

"Um, Sasuke?" she said haltingly. "You don't like the sight of blood?"

He shrugged, but his slow response spoke volumes. "I guess I just saw enough of yours, that's all."

This time she saw through his deflection. _Of course he wouldn't, not after everything he's been through—_

Sasuke peeled himself off the wall. "I should go. Hope you feel better." He didn't look at her.

Guilt swamped her. Suddenly she felt like crying. _What was wrong with her?_

Sakura cleared her throat. "Sasuke, wait. About what I said earlier…. Maybe it could be a goal I work toward?" He looked back, perplexed. "Maybe I could train with you when I'm farther along? Like as a goal?"

Sasuke nodded. "Sure, I guess."

"I think maybe I need something to work toward. Would that be okay?"

The corner of his mouth quirked up. There was the trace of something there, almost like a smile.

"Yeah, okay." he said, looking at her full in the face for the first time since she'd been there.

She smiled back, unsure if that was what he was doing. She'd never seen him smile, so she wouldn't know.

Another wave of emotion hit her. Gratitude or sadness or guilt, she didn't know. But tears burned at her eyes. Embarrassed, she flashed a watery smile. "Thanks."

One of the nurses appeared at the door again with the yellow card. "Don't know how this fell out," she said sheepishly and affixed it to the nameplate. Sasuke said a quick goodbye and ducked out past her.

Finished, the nurse lingered in the doorway. "He's a nice kid, your teammate."

Sakura was so emotional she didn't trust herself to answer. She hoped the woman would just go—

But of course she didn't. Instead the she leaned against doorframe. "He stayed here, you know. The whole time. Until you woke up."

Sakura shook her head. The nurse must have mixed the them up. "That was probably the other one. Sai. He's the one with _short_ black hair." Although Sai didn't seem like he'd sit around hospital rooms either—

"Nope," the nurse said matter-of-factly. "It was this one. I remember. The Uchiha. Slept in that chair for three days." She tucked her clipboard under her arm. "He's a good kid." She closed the door quietly behind her.

Shocked, Sakura folded her hands in her lap and turned to stare out the window at the overlapping roofs of Konoha. Her wound hurt. But this blow struck deeper.

_Was she bound to be wrong about everything?_

She swiped away the fresh tears and pushed back on another wave of emotion.

* * *

Sakura wrapped a hand around the sudden pain in her side and panted. Across the grassy sparring pitch Sasuke frowned at her hand. The soft thunder of an autumn storm rumbled across the darkening sky.

"You're going too easy on me," she snapped.

"You're holding your wound! How is that going too easy—"

"It's just a spasm, perfectly natural. It has nothing to do with the injury." She was lying. And Sasuke looked like he knew it, too.

But she had to keep going. The other option was just too…. She bit her lip and gripped her side, forcing the pain away.

After the questions had been asked and the reports had been filed and Sakura had been dismissed to finish her last bit of recuperation at home with the Hokage's stern threat of house arrest if she didn't take it easy, Sakura knew she was in trouble. The more she sat at home, trapped between her parents and her thoughts, the more sure she was that she had to get back on her feet.

If her recuperation in the hospital had been slow, then she more than made up for it by throwing herself back into training. First alone, just a kunai at a spot on the ground, over and over until she felt the familiar burn of exertion. After that she turned to Ino, then Sai. And when their schedules became to cluttered to entertain her, she turned to Sasuke.

It may have been a bit too optimistic, she thought as she pushed a little chakra into the wound to dull the ache over-worked muscles. But she had to—

Sasuke snorted dismissively then turned to retrieve his gear tat the edge of the pitch.

"Hey! I know how much my body can take!" But Sasuke ignored her. "I'm the medic here!" Then she pulsed another round of chakra into the overtaxed muscles.

Sakura huffed for a moment. He wouldn't understand of course. Going home, sitting in the same old house, the same old _life_, with parents who constantly nagged you to "just settle down, do something safe." Telling her about their neighbors' children who had gone on to choose happy civilian lives. And how pleased they all were…. And then the inevitable silence would creep into the spaces between their dinner conversation. Spaces that Sakura could never fill.

Like it wasn't enough that she'd let herself down. Now she had to bear their disappointment as well.

Sakura knew she didn't want to go back. Not just yet. She would train all night if she could. The punishing spars seemed to be the only way she felt better. Nothing else worked.

She tightened her fist. Fresh blood seeped from the dry cracks at her knuckles.

Her hands bore testament to her struggles. They were no longer the smooth hands of a medic. They were beat up and callused. They were the hands of a fighter. They were…_hands like his—_

She smothered the thought, but that familiar desperation was already bearing down on her. She suddenly wished for just one more round, one more spar to push everything out, just for a moment—

"Well, _I_ have to stop and eat from time to time. I'm finished for tonight." Sasuke toed her hip pack on the ground and looked at her expectantly.

Sakura ground her teeth and stretched her neck. She was just digging in her heels to stay when another peal of thunder rolled across the sky, this time much closer. The sound took a little of the edge off. Sasuke she could fight, nature she couldn't. And the rain would soon be driving her inside anyway. Admitting defeat, she walked to the grassy edge and snatched up her pack.

Through the weeks of sparring since she'd been released, she had worked out a sort of harmony with Sasuke. They never spoke about anything personal. Always the task at hand. And he turned out to be a better training partner than Ino or Sai.

Sasuke took all her punches and relentlessly threw them back. Sakura had to work hard, so hard that she truly forgot about the things that were eating her up inside. But only while they were sparring.

They stepped through the small gate then turned up the path toward the village, leaving the sparring pitch and the shadowed forest behind them.

"Sai and Kakashi are up for a mission," she said, glancing sideways at him. "Are you going out with them?" But as soon as the words left her mouth, she wished she hadn't asked. She could see the answer on his face.

Sasuke shook his head slowly. "No. The Hokage does not think it's safe right now." No other explanation was needed. Sakura knew it was a knee-jerk reaction from her attack. Probably handed down from the council.

Her mood darkened. He was just one more person suffering from her mistakes. Her gaze dropped to the ground. Thunder rattled close by.

It was ironic that now she knew exactly how he'd felt all those years. Since her release from the hospital, she had been placed on inactive duty and couldn't leave the village. Tsunade's orders. _For her own safety._ But to Sakura it was a blow. She felt weak and ineffective and—

"So are you catching up on your medic hours then?" Sasuke rallied. "At the hospital?"

Sakura looked away. "Yeah. Some." She could feel Sasuke's eyes on her, but she didn't elaborate.

And she knew she could count on him to not ask more than was necessary.

"Have you seen the little girl lately?"

"Yeah…." But she didn't want to talk about that either.

So they walked on in silence. They came to the cross roads where they usually broke off. Fat rain drops were just starting to spatter across the dry ground. "So, tomorrow afternoon, then," Sasuke asked. Sakura nodded, then turned for home.

* * *

"Something wrong?"

Sakura blinked. Tsunade looked from Sakura's face to the dead fish under her clasped hands. Sakura's fingers were interlaced, the chakra glowed green, but the medical seals around the table were still unmoving. And the fish was still dead.

"N-No. Nothing's wrong."

She refocused, bit her lip and, brows knitted together, squeezed her hands so tightly it hurt.

But her thoughts slipped quickly back to that night…and _him_. She growled inwardly, refusing to say his name. But the images would not stay buried.

Sakura shook it off and let the feeling flow through her limbs and down to her hands. In that moment, that grasping of the exact amount of chakra needed to complete the task, another voice echoed from somewhere deeper. _You just have to survive. It doesn't matter how…_.

Tears blurred her eyes. _No, it didn't matter, did it? It was all lies._ She grit her teeth, pushing down her traitorous memories with everything she had.

Suddenly the scrawled marks blurred and wiggled. The tail of the fish flapped, once, twice, then it's body pitched against the lab table.

"Excellent," Tsunade said, hoisting the live specimen up by it's wriggling tail and pitching it into the containment pond in the center of the room. The black marks dissolved from the table.

Sakura was too surprised to smile at her achievement.

"You are an excellent medic, you know that? You have a real knack for this," Tsunade said, leaning back against the table. "You have that something that most people don't have. I don't know, like a spark. Something that drives you…."

She pinned her with a long gaze.

Sakura couldn't hold it. She looked to the table. She _had_ changed. In ways she never expected.

She suddenly felt awful. She had been lied to…and she had lied as well. She didn't deserve Tsunade's praise. Sakura pursed her lips. Maybe she should just come clean about all of it…tell her about _him_—

"Hokage-sama?" Shizune called from the door.

Tsunade patted her arm, "Well, good work, Sakura," then strode to the door.

"Thank you," she said quietly.

In the end, she was a coward too, apparently. Because if they knew she'd put her faith in a rogue boy — an enemy nin, she corrected herself — she'd be branded a traitor.

_Some medic,_ she thought viciously. _The only reason she even worked the seal was because of this mess. Not some great spark, like Tsunade thought. She probably couldn't even do it again…._

Sakura scooped up another wriggling fish and flopped it on the table. It beat it's tail against the cold metal, spraying water everywhere. Gills flared wider and wider, flashing crimson red, desperate for water, suffocating in the air.

_Tsunade was wrong._ Sakura squinted against another spray of water. _This was no work ethic. More like desperation—_

She clamped her hand down on its silver body, holding its fins flat against its middle. Narrowing her eyes, she focused her chakra into razor sharp threads. And in a single flash of green she severed the chakra connections around the creature's heart. The silver tail went limp, the red gills fell flat. Only it's big glassy eyes stared out at the room.

Sliding her hands back, Sakura took a breath. She had killed it.

But the more she looked at it, the more she realized she felt numb. There was no sense of accomplishment, no feeling of worth. It was all just…gone.

She had loved her work as a medic. She didn't know she could ever lose that feeling. But it was as dead as the fish on the table.

Her deceit had tarnished everything she had worked for. Sakura's throat closed with sudden emotion.

But she pushed it all back, clasped her hands and closed her eyes. She concentrated on the pool of warm chakra surrounding her hands. Just as before, images of her betrayal floated back up. A burning building, a masked assailant…a boy, smiling from underneath a black hood….

Sakura pressed her lips into a flat line and breathed through the ache in her chest, pushing more chakra into her hands—

The fish flopped once, twice….

Sakura opened her eyes. The fish wriggled desperately, alive again but still out of its element…and still dying.

She understood how it felt.

Sakura couldn't stand to look at it. She grabbed it's tail and pitched it back into the pond. _Survive. For what it's worth._

Sakura turned from the table, feeling…nothing. She knew for certain then that something inside had changed. Tsunade may still think she was a great medic, but Sakura wasn't so sure any more. Saving a fish wasn't the same as saving lives. Especially when she had ruined so many, including her own.

* * *

Kakashi was the first to spot them, slipping through the trees of Konoha's dark training forest. But these nins weren't trying to stay hidden. They were looking for someone. _Them._

Sighting Kakashi, three anbu pivoted and dropped to the forest floor. Kakashi walked over to meet them, leaving Sai and Sakura in the clearing. Sasuke, seeing that their training session was at an end for a moment, sauntered out of his hiding spot.

Sasuke shoved his hands in his pockets. "You must have caught their eye," he said snidely to Sakura.

Sakura snorted, but seeing the three white masks turn suddenly in her direction, she looked away.

"You mean you _wouldn't_ join up anbu if they came knocking on your door?"

But Sakura wasn't as girlishly excited as he expected her to be.

"Well…. We can just hope they're here for you now, can't we," she snapped back.

Sasuke hitched his eyebrows up in surprise, but shrugged off her bad attitude as bluster.

Sakura watched Kakashi and the anbu approach from under hooded eyes. _If it was true, if the anbu were here for her, then they thought her near-constant training as some sort of screwed-up work ethic._

"Sakura, Sasuke," Kakashi said, "the anbu division has expressed an interest in your skills. Before you are formally invited, it is tradition to speak with the team's sensei, then discuss it with you."

A male voice came out from behind one of the white masks. "Uchiha-san, your skills are very valuable to the Leaf. Anbu has a lot to offer someone of your caliber…but…."

"But…." Sasuke echoed bitterly. "Let me guess, there are some _complications_."

"We are working to resolve them—"

Sasuke turned away, swearing viciously under his breath.

"Haruno-san," a woman's velvet voice came from the masked shinobi closest to Sakura. "We have followed your progress as well and have been very impressed." Sakura stiffened. "Your medic knowledge is second to none and your strength as well as your mental fortitude are highly valued skills—"

"I failed my last mission." Sakura's throat closed suddenly. She locked her jaw and stared ahead.

"We understand," said third anbu, an older man with a deep voice. "It is a pain all of us feel. In time you will move past it."

Sakura couldn't speak. It was as if the pain of all of it were right behind her throat, trying to leap out.

_What progress? Her skills from her partnership with a rogue, someone who was under Itachi's command. She didn't want to be on an anbu team, and if they knew…if they only knew…then they wouldn't want her either._

Sakura turned on her heel and walked away, not trusting her ability to hold back her thoughts. Tears suddenly burned at her eyes.

"Give her time," Kakashi said into the silence when it was clear she wasn't coming back. "I think it has been a goal of hers, but she's a little adrift right now."

"We understand," the older anbu said. "Please consider what we have said." Then they were gone.

At the edge of the tree line, Sakura drug her forearm ruthlessly across her face. Then she walked on into the shadowed woods.

Sai finally spoke up. "Should we go after her?"

Sasuke looked at him blankly. _When did he start concerning himself with someone else's emotional wellbeing?_ But Kakashi answered for all of them, "No, let her have some time. When she's ready, she'll talk about it."

Sasuke looked at both of them, then to the trees where Sakura had disappeared and wondered when everyone around him had changed.

* * *

Kakashi descended on an evening spar just as Sasuke and Sakura were in their last rounds. He watched them, noting Sakura's hesitancy on her wounded side. She still favored it. And that weakness could be exploited.

"Well, at least she wasn't wrong about that," Kakashi thought as he pulled out the Hokage's scroll.

Both his students glanced up at the sound. But when the seal flopped open, Kakashi could read the disappointment in their faces. They had believed it to be a mission scroll.

He sighed inwardly. _Best to get right to the point, then._

"The request from the anbu has been denied." Both of his students straightened their shoulders. "The Hokage wants to keep you close, and with the instability in the territories lately…well, the missions required of anbu agents would have you out of the village far too often."

Sakura and Sasuke said nothing.

"She is concerned you would be too much of a target," he added, hoping to lessen the blow.

Sasuke whipped around indignantly and clanged his weapons back into his pack.

Sakura was more stoic. She shrugged once, then began putting her things away as well.

Kakashi sighed. "Sakura, the Hokage is concerned about your healing—"

"It's fine," she said firmly, not looking up.

But just as she stretched for a kunai at the edge of her grasp, her muscles on that wounded side knotted suddenly. She hunched for a moment, massaging her fingers into her side until the spasm passed, then straightened as if nothing had happened. But Kakashi didn't miss it.

_Tsunade had been right. It was minor, but in battle something like that could get her killed._

Sakura looked back over her shoulder at Kakashi. She knew he'd seen her. And she knew what he'd say.

So he spared her a lecture.

"I think it's for the best right now."

She shrugged. He let it go.

Kakashi nodded once. "Later." Then in a flash of hand signals he was gone.

* * *

"Listen, I'll be busy for the next few days. Maybe even the rest of the week," Sasuke said. A chill autumn breeze chafed them as they walked home from sparring. Sasuke lowered his voice a nothc. "Tsunade has me doing some errands," he said apologetically.

Sakura rolled her eyes. This meant that she was even being passed over for D-rank mission inside the village. Probably because Tsunade didn't believe she was healing. Sakura huffed.

Sasuke wisely let it go.

"So I'll just stop by your house when I get finished, then we can pick up with the spars—"

"I probably won't be there," Sakura said darkly. "I'm moving out."

"Oh?" He looked at her with a frown, forming questions…. Sakura headed them all off.

"It's been very stressful…with my parents." Sasuke nodded with surprising understanding. "They really wanted me to quit this time. Were adamant. They even said they were even going to speak to Tsunade—"

"So they kicked you out!?"

"Oh no! They would never do that. They're not happy with what I'm doing, but it didn't come to that. They still love me." She sighed. "They just don't love what I want to do with my life."

"But, you're protecting your village."

She nodded. "But they say I'm throwing my life away." She shrugged. "It's not their fault. They're good people. They love me and want me to stay safe. But I think it will be easier if I'm in my own place where I'm not condemned for every scratch."

Sasuke was quiet. A look of anger had stolen across his face.

Sakura didn't know what to make of it, but she instantly felt guilty. "It's complicated," she backpedalled. "They are civilians. I've chosen to be a shinobi. And they're parents, you know? They are supposed to be over-protective—"

"That's crazy," Sasuke said quietly. "My parents were so proud..."

Sakura's excuses died on her lips. She had never heard him speak about his parents. Ever. Or even his clan, other than in terms of what he'd like to do to his brother.

She didn't know what to say. A gulf opened up between them. They walked in heavy silence, until Sakura rallied herself to dispel the awkwardness. She let his family comment go untouched.

"Well, _my_ parents are civilians. So, they just don't understand. They think I should be happy in the hospital." She grinned mockingly and hooked her fist. "That's me! Protecting Konoha one bedpan at a time!"

A corner of Sasuke's mouth hitched up into that small wry smile.

Sakura thought that since he was smiling — if that's what it really was — it might be a good time to ask him for another favor. One she wasn't entirely sure he'd go for.

"I've been meaning to ask you…. There are some other areas that I feel like I'm, uh…_lacking_ in. Areas I was hoping _you_ could help me with…." Sasuke tipped his head. Sakura gulped. "Like genjutsu." His half-smile vanished.

"No," he said firmly and turned immediately to go down another lane.

She stepped around in front of him. "I can fight all I want but if I don't know how to defeat a genjutsu, then what good is a strong punch?"

"Go talk to someone else. Not me." He stepped around her, but this time she didn't follow.

"I— I don't trust anyone else but you. Not for this." He stopped. At least he was willing to hear her out. She wouldn't waste this opportunity. "You've been under Itachi's genjutsu, so you know what it's like. But I don't think I could fight back. I feel like I'm still weak, and I think I'm going out of my mind. So if I just learned how to fight it, just a little, then maybe I'd feel better—"

"What do you need to battle that for?" He turned to face her, irritated. "You're not going to go fight him. You'll probably never even see him again—"

Sakura blinked at him. "I'm your teammate. I probably am."

Sasuke's stern refusal thawed. He stood, watching her face, searching for something to refute it. But there was nothing. It made sense, and she knew it.

"So, I keep thinking that if I could just learn a little more, have time to practice, that I'll be able to protect myself next time—"

"There's not going to be a next time," he said stubbornly.

"How do you know?!"

"Because I—

"Because you'll be alone? It didn't happen that way before. Itachi targeted me. The weak one on the team—"

Sasuke scowled and looked away. "You don't know what the hell you're talking about," he muttered.

"It's true! I…." She swallowed once, hearing Katsuro's words echo in her head. _"You're expendable, replaceable…forgettable. Konoha put you on his team to be the target. They'll kill you first so he can get away."_

She closed her eyes and blinked away tears. "I don't ever want that to happen again. I'm on your team. I'm _sure_ to meet him…I mean _them_ again. And when I do I want to be ready."

Sasuke raked a hand through his hair. "I don't know…. Genjutsus are tricky…."

Please," she pleaded earnestly, desperation leaking into her voice. "I feel like I'm loosing it. Even with all the training. And I think if I could just get a grip on how to stop a genjutsu then I'd feel…better." She pushed away her wavering emotions, refusing them.

He blew out a breath. "It's not like learning a strike or throwing a blade. Each genjutsu is different. They become a creation between the user and the subject. I can't guarantee what might happen…."

Sakura remembered her first taste of a genjutsu with startling clarity. The smothering white petals, then her world going black….

"I just want to know how to fight it," she said firmly. "That's all."

"Alright. But just once. And nothing like _his_." There was a slight shudder when Sasuke said it, but it was gone again in an instant. "Just enough so that you know how to stop it. That's all." He sighed. "Meet me next Friday. At the sparring pitch."

"Thanks, Sasuke."

* * *

But once he instructed her, she proved so adept at dismantling the genjutsus that one session turned into two, then four. Then it became a regular part of their sparring through those dark fall nights.

They only worked on the genjutsus after dark. "Less people coming around," he'd said. Sakura agreed, realizing for the first time that Sasuke was intensely private. It made her appreciate the training even more.

And surprisingly, she was really enjoying it. Both of them were, if she had to guess. Because Sasuke kept coming up with new illusions to stump her.

Sometimes they were seamless, like when he assembled the whole team within the genjutsu just as if it were real life. Kakashi and Sai casually walked up, giving Sasuke the appearance that he'd never cast the jutsu. They spoke to Sakura casually, normally, then produced a scroll from Tsunade, requesting she come immediately. If she left, then Sasuke knew she'd bought into the jutsu. But he was pleasantly surprised when she smirked across at him, brought her fingers together and with a firm "Kai" sent an outward burst of chakra to dispel the illusion like mist.

Sometimes they were built on surprise, with enemy nins jumping out from every tree and bush. Other times they were built on objects such as mission scrolls or kunai, with Sakura having to sort out which were real and which were false.

It was challenging, but it was clear that Sasuke was enjoying devising creative ways to trip her up.

One night he hid an explosive paper tag under a clump of grass, then cast a genjutsu of wounded shinobi begging for help on top of it. Sakura nearly fell for that one.

She got quite close, then suddenly stopped and peered at the man. His wails grew louder and his thrashing more violent. Sakura squinted hard. Blood started spurting from a wound at his neck—

But she ignored it and clapped her hands together for the release. He popped in a cloud of smoke, leaving just the corner of a paper tag sticking out from under the clod of grass.

"Pretty tricky," she said smiling.

"It wasn't live," he smirked back. "It was just there to scare you."

"Gee thanks," she laughed.

He picked up the tag. "So the victim was to test how you handled something that tugged on your particular heartstrings—"

"Someone in need of medical attention," she interjected.

"Right. And the tag was to see how you compensated for fear. Did your emotions fill in the gap and let the illusion be real, or would your mind process the difference and not lose sight of reality."

"Interesting," she breathed, stretching her neck from side to side and shaking off the slight dizziness that always accompanied a low-level genjutsu. Not the extreme genjutsu sickness….

Sakura frowned. "But…it's not quite like I remember…." There was no easy way to say it, so she just plunged ahead. "I still feel like you're holding back—"

"Of course I'm holding back!" His eyes were wide with angry disbelief. "If I did it wrong I could kill you!"

"But…you can control it? Can't you?"

Sasuke looked at the sky, exasperated. "Of course. But it's not like that. It's not like a kunai, where it's the same weapon every time I throw it." He dropped his gaze back to her. "A genjutsu changes every time. It's my influence on your fears. So I have to get in your mind and twist it. And to do that I have to put some of myself in there too." He dropped his hands to the pockets of his fatigues. "If it goes too far, it can pull both of us into the illusion."

"Oh…. Well, then how was Itachi so good at it?"

Sasuke smiled again, but this time it was dark, menacing. "Because he did it all the time."

"Oh." Sakura thought for a moment. "Then we both need to work on this…."

"What?! No!" Sasuke growled in frustration. He tried a different tack. "This makes me tired too you know, and the more we work at it the more danger there is of it going wrong." He turned suddenly to walk off the pitch. "We've trained enough."

Sakura stared at his back. She was beginning to wonder if maybe some of his general disdain for everyone wasn't more personally rooted.

"You need this too," she called across the pitch. "Right?"

He didn't stop. She didn't care. She'd yelled at his back before.

"To be able to fight Itachi, on his level, you need the practice too. Right?"

That stopped him.

"Please, let's keep going. I've already had the worst — a genjutsu at enemy hands. There's nothing you could do that I didn't already see." He turned slightly. "I want to know how to fight back. And you need to be ready for your brother when you face him again."

He was considering her words.

"When _we_ face him. Me and you and Sai." He shook his head at her ploy. But he didn't leave.

"Please, Sasuke, I really need this." And she meant it. These training sessions were the only things keeping her afloat. Not the mindless work at the hospital. Not the heart-wrenching visits to the orphanage—

"Alright. But if it starts to goes too far, then that's it. We're done."

He walked back to the flat grassy circle of the sparring pitch and they started again.

Hours later, they were still there.

Sakura stood completely still, eyes painfully wide and fixed on Sasuke. Only small beads of sweat pricked at upper lip.

Across from her, Sasuke kept his eyes pinned to hers, sharingans swirling. His brow was furrowed and his hands were clasped in front of him. He was perfectly still.

Suddenly Sakura unfroze. She gulped for air and immediately started swaying on her feet. Sasuke blinked slowly. Tired lines had etched themselves under his eyes.

He slowly lowered his hand while Sakura dropped to one knee, fighting vertigo. She pressed her fingers to her mouth and quelled her nausea. "Genjutsu sickness," she repeated to herself. Finally it passed. She slowly stood up, wobbling for a moment before getting her feet solidly underneath her.

"Again," she rasped.

"Sakura…" he said in tired warning. His eyes faded to black almost too quickly.

But her only response was a long, hard look. Sasuke frowned at her, hands on his hips, but her determination ended the standoff in her favor. He sighed, and concentrated on bringing the sharingan to the surface again.

"Last time," he said, eyes bleeding red. "I can't go much further, even if you think _you_ can."

Sakura fisted the sweat from her upper lip then looked into his spinning red eyes. It was not as dizzying as the first several times. Like when she had opened her eyes to find herself in her bed, Sasori's skeleton tail hovering over her, ready to spear her through the chest. Or when she was suddenly suffocated by a murder of crows, their pounding wings sounding like the flapping of a canvas tent door. Or when she saw Konoha before her — the hospital, the Hokage's tower…all of it — burning, burning in malicious orange flames.

She knew Sasuke was pulling out her fears — her _nightmares_ — and using them against her. Each time she had to work harder to sense the separation, feel out the break between reality and illusion—

Sakura blinked. Suddenly she was alone on a road. It was dark, and Sasuke was gone. The gravel disappeared into a fog, so she couldn't see anything she might recognize. There was no sound and no wind. Just a road.

The mist shifted and an outline of a shape slowly emerged. It was a lump on the side of the road. As if someone had thrown out their laundry. Sakura moved cautiously toward it.

But the more she looked, the more she saw. It was a body. Black hair. A young man. Sakura broke into a run.

He was on his side. An Uchiha fan was partially visible on the clothes and blood was seeping out from underneath him.

It was _his_ body…. It was _Sasuke_.

Choking on an anguished cry, she ran toward him but she could not cover the ground fast enough. He still was too far away. Her heart raced, her mouth went dry.

More lumps where emerging, as well as the shadowy outlines of buildings. All the way down the road more bloody, clothed bumps were coming into view. Everywhere. Spread out across the lane, in doorways, clinging to each other or fallen alone.

_W-What happened?_

Sakura finally got closer to Sasuke, but somehow the form had changed. The hair was longer, the body different. It was not Sasuke, but some other black-haired man struck down on the side of the road.

The street crystallized out of the fog. Houses and stores. The Uchiha fan was painted on a long curving wall. And there were bodies. All of them Uchiha. All of them dead. _Murdered._

Black hair and blood…. Women and children…. Fathers and mothers….

Sakura felt the weight of every stolen life. She dropped to her knees in the road. She felt dizzy. There seemed to be no more air.

Suddenly a warmth tore into her side. It was wet and wrong….

She looked down, feeling strangely disconnected, and saw her torn shirt and her shattered abdomen where her injury had nearly ripped her in two. Her hands, her arms, her clothes were covered with blood. She was drenched in her own life's fluid.

Then suddenly she could feel again. The blood was heavy in her hair and plastered to her neck. Her once-pink tendrils hung in black curtains, sticking in places to her cheek and neck.

She shook her head slowly, slinging blood from the tips of her wet-black hair. _No. This couldn't be happening. She had survived. Sasuke had saved her—_

But that seemed like a far off dream. Because she was here. Alone. And she was going to die like the rest of the Uchihas—

"_Sakura!"_ Sasuke's voice roared like a wind. The sound tore down the road and blasted everything away in great swirls of fog.

Sakura blinked. The blood, the bodies, the _horror_…it was all gone.

She was standing in the sparring pitch across from a deathly-pale Sasuke.

She only had an instant to align reality with the illusion she'd just suffered, when vertigo overwhelmed her and bile shot to her throat. She went down on all fours, and retched violently.

Limp, Sasuke dropped to his knees. His face was chalk white. The sharingan had vanished immediately, but his dilated pupils made his eyes unnaturally black. His arms hung like dead weights. His hands were beginning to tremble.

Sakura cracked an eye at him. He was going into shock, but she was powerless to help him. The road and the bodies flashed in her brain again. Another wave of nausea hit her, followed by the image of her gaping wound, and the fear that she was watching her own death— The ground heaved, the sky swam over her, and she retched again.

* * *

If she thought that training or medic work would help her, then she was wrong. It was worse than ever.

She'd gained strength. She could fight any low level genjutsu thrown at her. She'd mastered some excellent healing jutsus. Tsunade had praised her. Even the anbu had taken notice.

But Sakura had never felt more hollow.

She knew why. And it wasn't just through the wreckage of her own life.

Every time she visited the little girl, she knew the cost of what she'd done.

And it seemed the little girl was intent on making her pay.

Sakura folded her arms. Though the sun had been up for a few hours, it had not yet warmed the narrow, shadowed lanes. Winter was fast approaching.

She turned down a street cluttered with old buildings and residences, it's state of dilapidation like a signpost that this was a less-desirable part of Konoha, then she turned again down an even less-desirable street. She walked past shabby storefronts and narrow alleys, until she came to a sprawling complex facing east. It was the only thing on this part of the lane, and it faced east, soaking up the morning sun. A wire fence ran down one side, and a large tree poked out from a courtyard tucked into the buildings wings.

Sakura walked up the dusty yellow lane, turned between two big planters and trudged up the steps. A dull plaque beside the door read Konoha Children's Home.

She stopped, hand hovering about the handle for a moment. _She really hated it here. Maybe she should come back later…._

But she forced herself on and, snatching the door handle, yanked it open. Familiar smells hit her like a wall: over-cooked food and warm little bodies and too much disinfectant. She bit her cheek and headed straight for the check-in desk.

The matronly woman's friendly greeting — "Here to see little Mai? Sign in, and I'll take you back." — and the sound of laughing children in the halls did nothing to ease Sakura's growing feeling of unease.

Sakura put on the visitor sticker and followed the woman down the maze of corridors.

Sakura had come to see the little girl as soon as she'd been released from the hospital. But it had been disastrous. Mai shrieked at the sight of her. "No! No! No!" she screamed, clutching her head until her teachers were able to calm her down.

"She has lots of nightmares," they all said reassuringly. "We see it often after traumas. She'll get better! Don't worry!"

But Sakura didn't think this would just 'get better.' And she was right.

Mai did stop screaming at the sight of her, and the teachers all smiled fondly, encouraging their friendship, but Sakura could tell the little girl was retreating farther into her shell each time she came.

She brought gifts, she suggested games, she talked when the little girl said nothing…she even offered to let her play with her ninja weapons. She said anything and everything. But the little girl was still cold.

Mai never spoke. She just shook her head or turned away completely.

It shook Sakura to her core. Sometimes it made her so frustrated. She would storm back down the street, swiping away hot tears. Other times she would sit on at the picnic table in the courtyard under the great shade tree, watching the girl on the swing, her feet dragging circles in the dust, and just feel like such a failure.

"_You can't even save yourself…."_

Sakura didn't even know what she was doing here anymore. She didn't think it was doing any good. But another part of her felt so responsible for this mess, that she didn't what else to do. So she kept coming back.

She followed the woman down more halls. They were cleanly washed and pictures were pinned down the walls. It was a cheerful, happy place. The woman turned at an open exterior door and held her hand out to the courtyard. A long girl with fluttery black hair moved slowly in the swing under the tree. Around her, children played and ran. But she was immune to it.

Sakura sighed.

The woman heard her and laughed. "Yeah, she's in one of her moods today. But maybe you can bring her around!"

Sakura didn't see how that was possible. But she thanked her and went out anyway.

Mai turned her head slightly at the approaching footsteps, but she whipped her head back when she caught sight of who it was.

"Hi, Mai," Sakura said softly.

Mai looked at the ground and continued swinging as if no one was there.

"I-I brought you some candy." She reached in her pack and pulled at a handful of lemon candies. "I remembered they were your favorites."

Sakura squatted down and held them out in her hand, directly in the Mai's view. But she stared even harder at the ground.

Normally Sakura took the child's signal and pulled back, letting her make the first move. A 'first move' which never came.

But Sakura's turbulent emotions were robbing her of patience. She kept thinking if she could just make a connection, smooth over those wounds deep inside, then they could begin to heal together.

But Sakura didn't know how much longer she could last. And today, desperation got the best of her.

Mai ignored her, but Sakura decided to wait her out. She left her hand extended, the candy there for her to take. Mai couldn't swing or even slip out of the seat until she either took the candy…or told Sakura to get the hell out of the way.

Mai froze. Sakura watched her, feeling more and more sure that this was absolutely the _wrong_ way to handle this.

Ashamed of herself, she was just about to pull her hand back, when she caught a fragment of a whisper.

"What!? Mai, I didn't hear you, honey. Tell me again—"

"Not _my_ favorite."

Sakura pulled her hand back, in numb shock.

"I know," she said in a watery voice. "I know…."

The candy wasn't her favorite.

Sakura wasn't her favorite.

She crushed her hand around the candy, blindly shoving it into her bag.

It was all about _him_. It always was. And there was nothing Sakura could do to fix it. Nothing.

She pushed down her urge to cry. "Listen, Mai. What happened was awful. But you're here now, and we can move on. We can—" She didn't even know what she was saying. "You can go to academy, and be a ninja like me…or…. Or be whatever you want to—"

"I don't wanna be like you! I don't wanna be a ninja— I want to go home!"

"Mai, you can't honey. You know that. I wish you could but—" Sakura moved to put her arms around her, but Mai pushed her away.

"I don't want _you_!"

"Sweetie, I—"

"You did this," she screamed. Across the courtyard children and teachers looked up. "You killed them and…and…_I hate you!_"

The words hit her like a punch. She dropped a knee to the ground to steady herself. But now that the little girl had started, she wouldn't be stopped. It all came out in a flood. "You killed them! And you left him there! And you did this! You did all of it! And I hate you! I hate you! I hate you!"

Still screaming, She flung herself at Sakura, pounding her with small fists. Sakura let her, saying over and over "I'm sorry, I'm so sorry," thinking that maybe if Mai got it all out they'd both feel better. But in the next moment a teacher was scooping up the inconsolable child and carrying her back to the building. The woman from the front desk helped Sakura to her feet.

"It's just hard for her right now," she said, her matronly air turning crisp. "Don't take it personally. She'll get better, you'll see. She just needs time…. And I think you do too."

The woman was politely telling her to stay away. Leave the child alone.

Sakura bit her lip and nodded mutely.

She didn't think it was possible to feel like _more_ of a failure, but she did now. She hadn't fixed anything — she'd somehow made it worse.

Sakura held in a sob and walked back to the building alone, the woman having left her to corral the children still in the courtyard.

Just like at the hospital, word traveled fast in the orphanage. The few teachers she passed in the halls offered her sympathetic smiles. And she felt worse with each one.

At the front desk, Sakura ripped off the visitor sticker and threw it in the trash. Gulping down sobs, she pushed hard on the door, bursting out of the building and rushing down the steps, trying to get away from the orphanage, the pain, everything, but she couldn't…. She just couldn't….

A dam had finally broken inside, and it all crashed down on her. She dropped down on the bottom step and wept into her hands.

What Mai said was true. It was her fault. All of it. She could never fix it. She could never bring them back.

And Katsuro…_Katsuro_….

Just saying his name brought some small relief…and more tears.

He was Mai's favorite. And now he was gone too. She couldn't even say anything about who he really was. Help her understand. No, to blame him would only be taking away something else from the poor child.

She couldn't say anything. To anyone. Not about any part of it. Because to confess was to admit her guilt as well.

But worse than all that, was that he was gone. Even in the face of his betrayal — because that's what it was, truly — she still missed him.

Katsuro was her favorite too.

Fat tears rolled down her cheeks. She told herself it couldn't have _all_ been lies. He must have felt _something_. She remembered that kiss….

And through that one memory, a door cracked open to the place inside where she had locked everything about him away. It all came back in a rush. She wept again for that loss. It felt like a death.

Even thought Sakura knew he wasn't dead. Shhe knew he had made through that fiery inferno. Somehow, she just knew it.

Sakura palmed away the tears, remembering something Mai had said. She blamed her for "leaving him there." Then she must have felt his life force. She blinked.

But it didn't matter. He might as well be. He was gone. It was all a lie.

_Katsuro…._

She was still making mistakes. And other people were still having to pay for it.

If she had never connected with Katsuro, sought out that shortcut, then Mai would be with her family today.

Mai was right. This was her fault. And there was no way she could fix it.

And she thought she'd come so far….

"_You can't even save yourself…."_

The words haunted her now, like a curse. She stood shakily and stepped down to the sidewalk. She stopped, leaned against the one of the big planters and wiped her face again. The mid-sized trees shivered in the stiff breeze. The dusty yellow road glowed in the cold sunlight, hurting her eyes. A dry sob shuddered through her.

Sakura slowly walked back up the lane. She felt like she'd sprung a leak and everything she'd ever thought was important had just drained away. She felt empty. And she didn't know how to go on.

—

Sakura stared at the dancing flames of the campfire so long that the sound of footsteps in the dark woods behind her was a surprise.

Sasuke dropped an armful of kindling, just enough to keep the small fire going for a while. Winter's chill was slowly creeping across the land, and even though this night was mild, it could turn sharply cold without warning.

Although she couldn't see him, Sakura knew his exasperated huff was aimed at her. He stomped off again.

Sakura didn't care. She drooped her shoulders as if she carried a burden. And she supposed she did. It was crushing to suffer through these mindless missions. Tsunade was assigning them every manner of drudgery, all within the safety of the Fire Nation's expansive borders.

She knew she ought to feel grateful that the Hokage had relented and had begun sending them out again. But she wasn't grateful.

Instead, she thought Tsunade was probably just taking pity on them. All the other teams were out — being useful and chasing the specter of enemy nins across the territories — while she and Sasuke were left behind.

And since their spars had ceased after that disastrous genjutsu, there was nothing left to talk about. So they carried out their assignments in silence.

Sakura hung her head.

But silence was okay with her. She had nothing to say. There was nothing she wanted. When she was in the village, she wanted out. But when they were out, on nights like tonight, she felt as useless as when she was wandering around Konoha. And worse, it was even more clear that she had nothing to look forward to going back to—

"Is that all you're going to do," Sasuke spat out as he dumped another armload of branches on the pile. "Just sit there!?"

Sakura looked up in surprise. The pile was big enough now to last them several days. But they were just staying the one night….

_Great, now he was mad too._ Scowling, she rolled her eyes and turned back to the fire.

Sasuke stalked to the other side of the fire circle and into her line of vision.

"If you're just going to sit around, feeling _sorry for yourself_," Sakura glared at him, "then why even come out at all?!"

"It's not like that," she muttered under her breath.

"You think your the only one who has problems—"

"No, of course not. I—"

"Then get over yourself and get back to work!" Sasuke folded his arms over his chest. "You're only making it harder on yourself," he said, eyebrow hitching up in challenge. The corner of his mouth curled up. But his smile was mean. "You're only making it harder on yourself, you know."

Sakura's glowering turned to shock. _Was he throwing her own words back at her?!_ A long dormant fury swept through Sakura. She shot to her feet.

Across the fire, Sasuke looked smugly pleased with himself.

"You don't understand. This isn't just some botched mission. It's all my fault." Her words came out in angry rush. "I was targeted and because I was, I cost that little girl her family, and the life she would have had—"

"Bullshit!"

Sakura sputtered. "Y-You don't know what happened! You don't know—"

"I don't have to know!" There wasn't a shred of sympathy in his voice. "So what if you were targeted? The moment you put on that headband you were a target. What matters is that when you had to…you fought back. You survived."

Sakura grew very still. The words rang in her ears. _"You just have to survive…."_

Sasuke continued coldly. "And not only did you survive, you brought that damn girl back. Alive. Even though it almost killed you." The corner of his mouth turned down then.

"But you won. They didn't. And that's all that matters. Nothing else." He leveled his black eyes at Sakura. "So let her hate you. She's got to hate _someone_."

Sakura watched him, his words sinking in and her anger loosing it's hold.

"But, how do I—"

"Get over it?"

Sakura nodded weakly.

"You don't. You just move on."

"Oh…."

"You can't change it, so don't try to." Sasuke cut his eyes away. "You can only change what you do going forward."

She folded an arm across her stomach.

"Just…quit feeling sorry for yourself," he muttered. He stalked off, leaving Sakura standing alone at the fire, but he stopped at the edge of the darkness.

"Not everyone gets the chance to fight back," he said quietly, then he disappeared in the black.

Sakura looked down. Firelight reflected in her glassy eyes. Perhaps there were different types of survival, she thought.

Sometimes it was opponent. But sometimes it was grief itself.

Sasuke would know wouldn't he, she thought, remembering that genjutsu. She knew now it was his memory. He never got to fight back. But he'd survived as well.

She blew out a long low breath and felt something unwind inside. Maybe she could just let it go. And change who she was in the future. And never let anything like that happen again. She would just…move on.

It was a start. She sat down again, feeling more at peace with herself than she had in a long time.

Sasuke came back much later. This time, she heard him. He dumped another bundle of sticks onto the pile, then sighed deeply.

"Listen, Sakura. It didn't mean to…I sounded very…."

"It's okay," she said quietly, not looking up.

He must not have believed her. He spoke down at her rounded back, "Just…Just let her be. Konoha will take care of her." He cleared his throat, adding quietly, "I don't think seeing her is doing _you_ any good either."

Sakura peered back at him. "I think you're right," she said slowly. "And, I understand what you mean," she said honestly. "About moving on."

Sasuke looked surprised. But he said nothing. Instead he sat down quietly beside her and began feeding twigs into the blaze. Sakura pulled up her legs, rested her chin on her knees and watched the fire.

The rest of the night they sat in companionable silence, each mulling their pasts and the choices that lay ahead.

* * *

**Author's Notes**

Thanks for the reviews and faves! I love to hear your thoughts and ideas! Next chapter, is about Katsuro, and a lot more blanks will be filled in. Sorry if this chapter is too painful or angsty, but it had to be done. Sakura is incredibly loyal. So Katsuro's betrayal is a terrible blow. But there if you can't tell, the stage is being set for some big changes…. :) So read and review, and always check the website for extra notes, and chapter previews.

**Chapter Notes**

• "Inner Demons" — of course, meant to be about the inner demons we all have. Not just the literal ones locked in cages behind your navel. So it's a little twist on Naruto's demon. This chapter focuses on Sakura and Sasuke's inner demons.

• Sasuke — so this chapter investigates some of Sasuke's pathos. I'm trying to write him as more human. With a lot of baggage from his childhood, as would be expected of anyone who survived that. But he's the same ol' Sasuke (expect he just didn't leave), so he's not meant to be likeable. I just hope I've made him more than the two-dimensional villain he always seems to be.

• Sasuke totally has ptsd (post traumatic stress disorder/syndrome) — he's having flashbacks and he has a serious dislike of blood. Not fear, but it really makes him uncomfortable. There is some support in the manga for this too (not getting a drop of blood on him in training, and not liking to kill when he doesn't have to). He also can't emotionally connect with others. Again, just trying to make Sasuke more human and interesting.

• _Sakura's parents: "Just stay here, work in the hospital. Where you're safe. Where you can save others, and not the other way around"_ — Sakura's parents are like most parents who have a child that takes risks. They push the child toward the safe choice. They don't recognize that Sakura is doing what she wants. They love her, they just don't understand her.

• _Tsunade looked from Sakura's face to the dead fish under her clasped hands._ — This is from a scene in the manga, where Sakura is receiving training from Tsunade in some sort of medical scroll room. It seems like there is a fish pond in the room. (lol - but I may have spent so much time in this fic that I've just embroidered those details onto the original!)

• _Tsunade said, leaning back against the table, "You have that something that most people don't have. I don't know, like a spark. Something that drives you…." But Tsunade was wrong. Sakura squinted against another spray of water. This was no work ethic. More like desperation. — _So, this is a spin on the manga training from Tsunade when she says that Sakura has the key ingredient for a good medic: desperation. But I think that's a double-edged sword. And Sakura's desperation here is tearing her up inside. She's receiving excellent training, but only because she's running away. So she will get to the same strength and skill in the manga, but she is taking a very different path.

• _It was challenging, but it was clear that Sasuke was enjoying devising creative ways to trip her up._ — With the genjutsus, Sasuke is coming out of his shell and becoming more a part of a team as well, although he doesn't think of it that way.

• _Sasuke blinked slowly. Tired lines had etched themselves under his eyes._ — A little nod to manga Itachi.

• _But that seemed like a far off dream. Because she was here. Alone. And she was going to die like the rest of the Uchihas —_ Being alone is a theme of Sasuke's. (That whole avenger thing, I guess.) He doesn't want Sakura to die alone in the hospital. He thinks about being along and no one touching you. And he is strangely disappointed that Sakura is like he and Sai, an emotional orphan. So in the genjutsu, Sakura encounters the overwhelming despair of being alone. For Sasuke, it's not just the deaths, it's that he's been left behind. And this manifests through the genjutsu in which she thinks she's going to die alone, outside of help from the clan or the village. Yeah, I told ya he had ptsd. :) But I promise there is a method behind the madness. (Check the spoiler notes if you want to read more.)

• "_Here to see little Mai? Sign in, and I'll take you back."_ — I decided to name the little chakra sensor girl "Mai." I have a hard time with original characters, and an even harder time naming them. But she will come and go in the plot, so she needs a name. I'm trying to get better about this.

• _Mai turned her head slightly at the approaching footsteps, but she whipped her head back when she caught sight of who it was._ — There are lots of fanfics where the main characters save the child and the child loves them for it, and everything is sunshine and roses. Well…not in this one. lol. "Mai" gets her fair share of inner demons too. She is shell-shocked from her experience and resentful of where she is. And as a shinobi, Sakura is ill-equipped to handle her needs. (And even if she could, realistically she wouldn't have the time!) I would think the orphanages in any shinobi village would be overrun with the children of shinobis and civilians alike. And not all of the children would be happy about their situation. Mai is more sensitive than most, so she is exceptionally unhappy — and aims it all at Sakura.

• _And through that one memory, a door cracked open to the place inside where she had locked everything about him away. It all came back in a rush. She wept again for that loss. _ — So this is a small reference to the temple room. It's about the ability to lock something away — it's not gone, just hidden until you can find the right key.

• _The mid-sized trees shivered in the stiff breeze. The dusty yellow road glowed in the cold sunlight, hurting her eyes. A dry sob shuddered through her._ — Couple things here, referring to Naruto's early childhood experiences. When he was a boy, the trees were small and sickly. Now they have grown some. And the road still has that overly bright quality. Also it blinds her momentarily — a small physical cue that this is a shift in the story, leaving one section behind and beginning another in her storyline. (Last one like this was in Chapter 15, Returned.)

• "_Is that all you're going to do," Sasuke spat out as he dumped another armload of branches on the pile. "Just sit there!?" _— So at this point, I want Sasuke's words to mirror the readers' feelings. So he just explodes at her and tells her to get over it. This is Sasuke's version of a pep talk.

• _The rest of the night they sat in companionable silence, each mulling their pasts and the choices that lay ahead._ — So in the end, they don't exactly bond or connect, but they find a way to move on. Sakura most noticeably so of course, and Sasuke by coming out of his shell to help his teammate.


	34. Washed Away

**Chapter 34 — Washed Away**

The darkness that surrounded Katsuro, insulating him, was punctured by an insistent white light. It bore steadily into his eyelids, slowly burning through the fog in his head. Katsuro tried to move away from the insufferable glare, but his body didn't respond.

Shadows drifted across him, blotting out the light. That small need met, Katsuro's thoughts slunk back into blessed nothingness—

But the light flickered, pulling him back. Distant voices met his ears. The words were watery and garbled, but they kept swimming to him, demanding his attention….

"You think he'll be alright? I've seen burns before, but never like this…." Katsuro knew this voice. The old captain. "I can't believe he even made it out of there. He's one lucky kid."

A quiet chuckle echoed back. It pressed through the numbing void, filling Katsuro with unease.

The shadow shifted. It deepened and swept over him in a dark wave. _Itachi…_it seemed to whisper.

"It's not luck. He's got something special in him. Something that will keep him alive."

_Itachi…._ Katsuro stirred uselessly. Fragments of images — Itachi's snaking hair, his unyielding eyes, his billowing black cloak — unfurled in his mind. "Leave him be. When he's ready, he'll wake up."

The light shifted and there was a whisper of fabric on fabric, almost like a tent flap closing…but it was already growing fainter. The comforting dimness was creeping across him.

With a single ragged breath, Katsuro drifted back into darkness.

* * *

Katsuro rubbed his eyes against the blinding daylight. It felt like there was sandpaper behind his eyelids. He blinked at the glowing walls of the tent, not caring where he was. He was thirsty. More thirsty than he'd ever been in his life.

He eased up slowly, his body stiff and aching. He mouth was dry, and his lips were cracked and peeling. But there was only one thought on his mind…. _Water…. _

Hooking a cramped hand around the tent flap, Katsuro tugged it back only to be blinded by the glare. He dropped the flap immediately and sat back on the blanket, exhausted and sun-blind.

He didn't feel right.

It wasn't just that his mouth was as dry. He couldn't remember where he'd been or how he'd gotten here. Katsuro peered around at the tent, feeling sure he didn't remember coming here to sleep. Fetching back in his mind, only shards of a nightmare came to him. A fire. Screaming. And the demon. _Of course._

Katsuro shuddered. He'd been seeing those things since he was a child. But this time, it felt like the dream was still with him. Like the demon had crawled out of its cell and lodged itself between his bones. And now his skin didn't quite cover the two of them….

Katsuro quickly splayed his fingers, inspecting the back of his hands, then raked them through his coarse, choppy hair. _Nope, all still the same._

But he couldn't shake the feeling that something was wrong. The terror, raw and angry and demanding, was still with him…. Katsuro rubbed his face, trying to push it away and forget—

The tent flap suddenly pitched open. Katsuro clawed at the light, blocking it out. Though he couldn't make out the silhouetted shape in the door, he'd know that low, mirthless laugh anywhere….

"About time you woke up…." Itachi threw a full canteen at him. Katsuro forgot the blinding light and drank greedily.

Itachi tied back the flap and squatted down, waiting as Katsuro guzzled.

"What the hell happened," Katsuro croaked between gulps, surprised at how rusty his voice sounded.

Itachi arched an eyebrow. "Interesting…you don't remember anything?"

Katsuro frowned. "No," he said, pulling the canteen away from his mouth. "Just a few things, but none of it makes sense."

Itachi nodded quietly, observing but not volunteering any information. Katsuro felt the pressure to continue. If he wanted to know anything he'd have to do the talking.

He cleared his throat and lowered the canteen to his lap. "There was a fire," he said, blinking as the memories replayed themselves. He suddenly cringed. "And— And bodies. The Kyuubi was there. But," he looked up questioningly, "I was there too? It's not like the other dreams…."

"That's because it wasn't a dream," Itachi said, lips curving into a small smile.

Katsuro stared back, horrified. "H-How can that be—"

"Do you remember your assignment?"

Katsuro wiped a trembling hand down his face, thirst forgotten. The memories came crashing back.

"The little girl— You made me get her— And—" He rubbed a hand over his aching stomach. "But why…. Why was the kyuubi _there_—"

Katsuro looked up, eyes wide and unblinking, tears pooling in the bottom lids. "I— _I was the demon?_" he whispered. "But…_how_…?"

Itachi's smile widened. "So you did retain some memory after all…good. Excellent. You are beginning to harmonize with it. And that will help when—"

"But where is _she_?" Katsuro frantically looked around the tent as if he had misplaced something. "Where's the little girl? Did I— _Did I—_"

Itachi tipped his head and watched him with the bemused smile of a child who's trapped an insect.

Katsuro fisted his hands into his hair, eyes darting around as he remembered more and more…all broken and out of order. But finally one memory surfaced that drove the color from his face.

A single face, one he knew better than his own, came forward out of the darkness.

The seal at Katsuro's stomach wrenched suddenly at the image. Adrenaline racing, Katsuro doubled over and grabbed his gut. He felt as if a hole was being opened in his middle. The pain stole his breath, but a malicious anger coursed through his veins.

Katsuro glared up at Itachi. "Where is _she?_" A growl tinged his voice. Threats and desires and fire swirled in his mind….

Itachi's smug smile slipped. "There were no other bodies found at the site, if _that_ is what you are referring to." But he added quietly, "save those you killed yourself, of course."

It was enough of an answer to send the pain and fire slowly receding. The images and urges loosened their hold. Katsuro slowly sat back up, feeling thirsty and aching all over again.

"You need to learn control," Itachi said firmly, the usual commanding bite returning to his voice.

Katsuro wasn't interested in the demon inside him at the moment. "But she's still alive?" It was a risk to expose himself, but he was too desperate to care.

Itachi sat in stony silence for a long time, holding Katsuro's firm stare with one of his own. "You failed your mission, started an enormous blaze and racked up a body count that required me to alter the minds of dozen farmhands. And then I had to clear the site of your _very distinctive_ _chakra_." Katsuro's eyes slid away. "I would be more concerned about your own life. Because if I were 15 minutes later you would be sitting in a Konoha jail cell right now."

Itachi's continued without sympathy. "You need more training. And although this episode has been an interesting demonstration of your power, you need more control."

"Get dressed. We'll leave immediately and catch up with the rest of the men. If you can walk, then you can walk through your pain." Itachi sized him up. "If you want to use that power," he pointed at Katsuro's gut, "then you can't expect to lie on your back for three weeks afterwards."

Katsuro looked down at the faint traces of healed blisters on his hands as he processed the new information. But he didn't care about the pain or the demon. He still didn't have the answer he needed.

"Is she…. Is she still alive?"

Suddenly, Itachi was in Katsuro's face, his fist knotted in the front his shirt, startling him with a rare display of temper.

"I don't care about the girl! Do you understand? _You_ are what is valuable here. Not her!" Itachi's voice dropped to a malicious growl that rivaled the demon's. "And not some _damn kunoichi_ from Konoha!"

Itachi was being evasive. Relief splashed across Katsuro's face. _He didn't kill her!_

But Katsuro's expression only fueled Itachi's anger. Red swirled behind his black eyes.

"They were not among the wreckage. And I do not care what has become of them." The air in the tent became thick and stifled. The light from the door smeared into the canvas walls as Itachi's anger flared into a thin genjutsu, demonstrating his own power. "You have an obligation to me for saving your life, and you will uphold it. Otherwise _I_ will go to Konoha, and _I_ will bring you her body myself!"

The words echoed around Katsuro in the swirling vortex of shadows that had replaced the tent. Images flashed in front of him of a feminine form, the same one, lifeless as a rag doll and draped over doorstep, slain in a kitchen door, fallen just ahead of him on a darkened village road. He moved mechanically toward that the closest one.

At first, the hair hanging over the face was black. Fear and desperation tugged him look closer, and as he did the light shifted. The image became real. The night air was cold on his skin, and the smell of blood coated his tongue with a metallic tang. He knew this. It was the smell of death. He ran toward the body, telling himself it could not be her. _Her_ hair was pink—

At the same moment, the light shifted again. The black hair melted to blood red, then faded to pink. Fear gripped him. He couldn't cover the ground fast enough. He was hoping, wishing, telling himself that it couldn't be her. _She was in Konoha. She was protected_—

A pool of blood blossomed beneath her body. As he got closer he could see it seeping upwards, drenching the black shirt a blood-red. He ran harder repeating that a red shirt meant nothing. _Hers was different_—

And almost as the thought entered his mind, a faint white circle pushed forward on her back. The crimson bled around it and seeped over the rest of her shirt.

A sob lodged in Katsuro's throat. His seal ached, the demon threatening to overtake him at any moment. But he ran to her with everything he had, still not covering the ground fast enough.

Katsuro was so fully focused on the body that he did not see the black figure leaning against a wall a short distance away, where the road stretched down into a complex of tidy houses, and where more lifeless bodies dotted the ground. The figure laughed mirthlessly, then stood, revealing a clan symbol — a fan — deeply carved in the wall behind him.

Katsuro pounded toward her, gulping the cold air. The pain behind his navel swelled as if held back behind a dam. He was close enough to see her boots materializing out of the darkness, her hip-pack morphing out of a shadow at her waist.

He was almost upon her body, and he meant to throw himself on her when an apparition appeared suddenly in front of him, blocking him.

Black mist sprung from the ground and solidified into a body. Itachi's face loomed in front of Katsuro, capturing his full attention with those swirling red eyes, and rooting him to the ground, frozen. The mist swept out from Itachi, turning grey and erasing everything.

"I told you before I have forgiven you for your dalliance," Itachi said in a voice that seemed to echo in two worlds. "Don't make me regret that choice."

Katsuro blinked, and suddenly he was back in his own body. The tent walls were mist grey. A dark blanket pooled on the ground at his knees. Only Itachi's face was still in front of him. Katsuro reflexively gasped for air.

"No, I won't." Katsuro panted. "I'll do what you ask. I'll do it all."

"I knew we'd come to some agreement," Itachi said as he stood. "Get ready. We're leaving."

Katsuro doubled over and dropped his forehead into the cool blankets just to feel that they were real.

But the pain behind his navel still swelled there, just as it did in the genjutsu. It was held back somehow, like a lid forced down on a boiling pot. He panted, realizing Itachi must have done something to him to keep the kyuubi in check.

Katsuro crushed his eyes shut, certain that Itachi knew more about his powers than he let on. And that he clearly knew so very little.

But it was okay, he reassured himself. It was only a genjutsu. She was still alive. Both of them were. Telling himself this, the roiling, pent-up feeling began to subside. With slow, deliberate movements, he crawled out of the tent. Only the canteen was left behind, the remaining water slowly leaking out of the open vessel.

* * *

Katsuro stumbled through those first blurry days, not knowing where they were going and suffering through fragmented flashbacks of that awful night. He didn't try to remember anything. He didn't want to.

But one thing he couldn't forget: Kisame's toothy grin when Katsuro realized he was caught in Itachi's trap. It stayed with him, taunting him.

Back at the campsite, before all of these terrible events happened, Katsuro walked into Itachi's tent knowing he'd find Kisame there. The old captain had warned him. But he couldn't have imagined what was in store for him.

Although looking back now, he should have guessed it was bad. Kisame watched Katsuro with greedy, glinting eyes, like he was a morsel about to be snapped in half.

Katsuro knew better than to let the fear that was tying knots in his stomach show on his face. He pushed down his emotions. "What is the mission? I was hoping to be part of the ambush but—"

"No." Itachi sounded almost bored. "I have something else of value I need for you to retrieve." Kisame smiled pleasantly, a slip of serrated teeth showing. A wayward beetle scurried at the edge of the tatami mat and darted beneath Kisame's bench.

Katsuro didn't trust any of it. But he tried hard to look unflustered. He slung his hands from his pockets nonchalantly. "Hai, Itachi-sama."

But the formality only made Kisame's smile deepen. Itachi narrowed his eyes at the epithet, and a chill went up Katsuro's spine. Something was wrong.

Itachi's voice was low and even. "It seems your time with the kunoichi was not a complete loss…."

Katsuro's eyes went wide. Itachi's face darkened.

"So…. You _have_ been keeping secrets…."

Katsuro gulped. He'd just given himself away.

Denying it now would only make matters worse. But instead he found himself stumbling through excuses.

"Oh that…. It was nothing. I was out on a mission last year…and she happened to be there…and—"

"And the only reason _she_ is still breathing is that you have presented us with something much more valuable."

Katsuro was slack-jawed. He could only watch Itachi, mentally racing through what he could mean. Kisame snickered.

"I have a mission for you. One that only you can lead." Itachi produced a scroll. Katsuro took it automatically. "You will take a team to retrieve the chakra sensor, then deliver her to Kisame."

Kisame looked at Katsuro with a gleam of challenge in his black eyes. "She will make a nice addition to Akatsuki's resources."

Katsuro crushed the scroll in his hands. He was sick. He would rather die than turn that girl over to him to be used as a tool. Kisame was a monster. He'd turn her into one too. And if she didn't do his bidding—

Katsuro grit his teeth, smothering the thought. No. Maybe he could still keep her safe. And Sakura too.

"Listen, nothing happened," Katsuro said with false ease. "I was only using the kunoichi to…to get to the girl. I know should have told you but I…I thought the girl was still to young." He rallied, feeling more confident with every word. "I know it was a mistake. But let me make up for it! Let me train the girl. I found her after all, I have the right to—"

"You don't have the right to open your mouth!" Itachi's face was pale with fury.

Kisame swung his sword off his back and flipped it in front of him, letting its tip hit the ground with a thud. The beetle scurried out from behind the bench leg. "Why don't you let me have that one too." Kisame nodded at Katsuro. "I'll teach him a few lessons."

Suddenly the wrappings encasing the sword shifted and moved. Katsuro watched in horror as it bulged towards him.

Itachi tipped his head as if he was seriously considering it. Katsuro's gaze darted from the sword to the two men, not sure which to be more alarmed about.

"Interesting," Kisame said, eyeing Katsuro with predatory interest. "The kid must have more secrets if he's awoken Samehada." The weapon seemed to shiver then emitted a noise, almost like a purring. The beetle waggled it's antennae at the unknown creature and crept forward for a closer look.

Kisame narrowed his eyes at Katsuro. "Why not let me crack the kid open and find out what's inside—"

"No," Itachi said sharply, squelching Kisame's growing interest. He breathed, his restrained calm returning. "Unfortunately I have invested too much time in him. And I still have not seen if my investment will pay off. So far, he's fallen disappointingly short of his mark."

Katusro ignored Itachi's goading. At least he wasn't being shipped off with Kisame. His shoulders rose and fell with a relieved breath.

Kisame laughed at him. Without warning, he shifted the blade and caught the beetle, impaling it under the tip. Its legs wiggled uselessly. Then sword took on a life of its own. It shuddered and bulged downward, crushing the beetle. Green fluid oozed out through the cracks in its shattered shell.

With another rattling purr, the blade bulged out once more at Katsuro before resuming its inanimate shape.

Katsuro tore his horrified gaze away only to find Kisame studying him. The gill slits under his eyes rippled faintly.

Katsuro sensed his interest was sharpening again. Itachi must have sensed it too.

"I do not know what lies she fed you," Itachi said with an air of finality, "but it is over now. I have overlooked your dalliance, and I expect full compliance in return."

To go against Itachi now meant death. For the child, and for Sakura. There was no way out. He had to comply.

"Hai, Itachi-sama." He did not look at Kisame again. Numb, he turned and left the tent.

Out on the sun-bleached road, Katsuro stumbled. He shaded his eyes from the late summer sun. It had been months since that night, and three weeks since the fire. But he could still smell the smoke, still feel the tight sting of the new flesh across the seal.

He and Itachi were making their way to a temporary camp, to meet up with the captain. The black cloak bobbed along the road in front of him, and Katsuro felt like he was a child again. Blindly following Itachi across the countryside.

But it wasn't the same. He knew things had changed.

His energy was unstable, his seal ached and he felt like two bodies in one. The demon felt too close to the surface.

Itachi didn't speak to him, beyond what was necessary. They'd walked for five days in near silence when Itachi announced to Katsuro one night was strong enough to proceed on alone.

Katsuro looked up from the campfire. "What's about the rest? What's going on with the ambush—"

"It's in progress. I'm going now to oversee it."

Katsuro nodded, sliding his eyes back to the fire, understanding that being excluded was his punishment.

"The captain is expecting you. In two days time." Itachi's voice was cold and level. "Any delay and I will hand you over to Kisame."

"Hai, Itachi-sama," he said quietly.

Itachi pulled his hands in front of his chest, spoke a soundless jutsu, then disappeared in a flurry of black feathers.

Katsuro swore and pounded a fist into the dirt.

Even the damn march through the barrens of the Earth Country was probably a punishment. But a bruised ego and sore feet weren't the worst of it.

Itachi's genjutsu had spread his feelings for Sakura wide open. Itachi read him like a book.

He knew he had to let her go.

Staring into the dancing flames, Katsuro pictured Sakura, happy and in Konoha. The little girl would be with her too, of course. He imagined the two of them, walking through the hazy streets of his memory. Smiling and talking. The wall looming behind them.

A yellow flame fizzed suddenly on a smoldering branch, the fire reaching it's dry core. But it quickly died.

He hated Konoha. That wall had been his enemy for so long. But now it protected her. Them. And Katsuro admitted he was glad it was there. Konoha would keep her safe. And he would do whatever he had to do to keep her safe too.

So he'd let her go. He would move on, do his duty, and never give Itachi a reason to go after her. Them. Ever.

* * *

Inside the captain's meager campaign tent, the old man filled Katsuor in on the events of the last few weeks.

The ambush had lurched into action. The enormous shipment of metal purchased by their operatives posing as Mist nins had been transported through the territories. The convoy was ambushed at night, on the most secluded part of the road which happened to run closest to the Lightning Country. And their Mist purchaser — or their former soldier who looked like him — had turned up dead. Empty handed. They got the metal _and_ the money. And it all went exactly as planned. The captain was fairly beaming by that point.

"And our men, disguised as Cloud nins, made sure enough of the drivers and guards got away so they could point their fingers back at Kumi."

"And the rest?"

"Killed. Of course the Boss made sure to scorch them with lightning the way those Cloud nins do." The captain grinned. "Itachi-sama said it would make it look more authentic."

Katsuro nodded. This was more than he'd ever heard anyone speak about it at one time. It was always "the plan." But now, he could see the soldier's pride showing through in the captain's weathered face. The job had been a success.

"We now have enough metal for an army!"

Katsuro frowned. "But…Itachi's not building an army…is he?" Maybe Itachi had lied….

"No, you know as well as I do that he's going to rebuild the city. _Our_ city." He smiled deeply, looking off. "The village will be what it was. No. Better. It will be invincible! No more wood huts. No more fishing shacks."

The captain pounded a fist into his open palm. "The Rain Village will be the strongest of the all the hidden villages. We will break the shinobis' hold on this world." He spat the word shinobi. "That system has held us down. We've been in the mud, under their boots as those nations used our great country as their battlefield." The refocused, his face flushed. "Rain will be the center of the new world. And you will have a place there too, soldier!"

Katsuro smiled. He couldn't help himself. The captain grabbed his shoulder and rocked it, making Katsuro laugh with him.

Though he had become disillusioned with Itachi, Katsuro understood how the captain felt. "The plan" — to turn the old Rain Village into a true powerhouse, hidden right beneath the noses of the other countries — was something that all the old Rain soldiers were invested in.

And the idea that he would belong somewhere, as Itachi had always promised, was one that Katsuro still held dear. The Rain Village would be a new beginning. For all of them. They'd overthrow the shinobi system of governing that only saw men as weapons, and the Rain Village would be ruled fairly. Where shinobi were no longer tools. Where children were no longer plucked up to house demons inside—

The captain slammed down a sake bottle on the long table, followed by two cups. He filled them both to overflowing. Katsuro smiled earnestly. At the plan, the old captain's mirth, and the feeling that he belonged. That he was accepted. "Drink up, soldier! This is a time to celebrate!"

Katsuro hesitated. Itachi had forbidden him from ever drinking with the men. But surely being offered it by the captain didn't count….

So Katsuro lifted the cup gingerly and sipped. The liquid tasted both bitter and sweet as it went down. Glancing over the edge of his cup, Katsuro saw the captain down his in one gulp. So Katsuro did the same. This sake burned his nose and throat, but he drank it all.

Seeing the boy's empty cup, the old captain laughed heartily. "That's the spirit!" Then he poured another round.

* * *

The next morning Katsuro hovered outside the captain's tent. The night before was lost in a haze of drinking. But the captain ended the evening with the good news that Katsuro had another mission, a solitary one. He clapped Katsuro on the back and told him to come by in the morning for his scroll. Katsuro remembered stumbling back to his tent feeling elated.

But now, thinking clearly in the morning light, Katsuro wasn't sure if it he had a mission at all. The captain could easily have misspoken. Because surely Itachi wouldn't allow him out unsupervised, not after everything that had happened.

But there Katsuro stood, cautiously hopeful.

The captain pulled back the flap and smirked at him. His face was tired and drawn, like he hadn't had much sleep. A canteen of water was in his hand.

"Walking off the effects? Well, that's youth for you," he said as he summoned Katsuro inside. He took a swig from the canteen before sitting it on the desk.

It was then that Katsuro realized he felt fine. He had none of the sluggishness he always saw in the other men after a night of drinking. The sake bottles were piled in the corner, evidence that it wasn't just one cup. But for Katsuro it was like nothing had happened at all. The captain rubbed a hand down his face, looking even more haggard than before, and Katsuro decided not to mention his self-discovery.

"You said you had a job for me?"

The captain grunted and pulled out a scroll.

He was right. It was all there in Itachi's bold strokes: Katsuro was make a delivery to Rain—

The captain flung a small sack on the table, wincing when it clanged loudly.

"Special metal. Best of the lot. Been chakra-enhanced. Don't know what it's for. But the _Big Boss_ wants it." Katsuro smiled at the funny Rain habit of making nicknames. The captain produced a slim grey Rain scroll and set it beside the sack. "If he likes it, he'll send word back. So wait for it."

Katsuro was in disbelief. He didn't expect to be given missions again so soon. He gathered up the sack and scroll quickly in case it was all a mistake.

But the captain called him out just as he reached the door. Katsuro grimaced. _He knew it was too good to be true—_

"And hey, uh…let's keep all this to ourselves, right?" The captain waved his hand at the pile of sake bottles.

Katsuro grinned. "Sure thing, _boss_," he said, cheekily addressing him the way the older soldiers did.

"Bah!" The captain waved him off good-naturedly, then went back to nursing his canteen.

* * *

Grey clouds huddled on the horizon. Anywhere else they would look like a gathering storm. Or the remnants of one. But Katsuro knew better. Somewhere under that mass was the Rain territory. And those clouds never moved.

Katsuro had several different pictures of this land in his mind, even though he'd never set foot there. But even from the beginning, it seemed like his destiny was leading him to this strange sodden land.

Itachi had given him only the sparest reasons for joining the Akatsuki. But rebuilding the Rain village was at the heart of it.

And Katsuro remembered their conversation well.

"But…. Why would we want to join someone _other_ stupid village?" The nine-year old squinted up cheekily at the black-haired nin beside him. "We're finally free! We can do what we want!"

"Because…" Itachi paused and gave him a long look, as if changing his mind about something. "Because the Rain is just like us. It has been used as a tool for war for so many years, there's hardly anything left. They would be like us if we were used the way Konoha wanted to use us. Understand? Rain's leader wants to rebuild the village, restore it…no, make it even better. And one day it will rule all the other hidden villages."

Katsuro frowned at the last sentence. "It will be just the same as the others then—"

"No, you see, this one will be a free village," Itachi said smoothly. "It will never be like the others. That's why we to help them out. Just imagine, there you could be a free shinobi. And you could fight and help out others like us. Just like you've always wanted." He smiled encouragingly at the boy.

Young Katsuro tipped his head to the side, considering it all.

"The other members of Akatsuki understand this as well. Just like us, they each have a part to play in this great change. Each is responsible for bringing something…_unique_ to the table." He slanted a significant glance down at the boy.

Katsuro just scratched his head and scrunched up his nose. "But I thought—"

"It doesn't matter," Itachi said dryly, refocusing. "What matters is what's inside you, and that you're kept safe. And Rain can provide that for us. Right now, my interests and Pain's are in harmony."

"What?" Katsuro squawked "Pain? Who's in pain? Or did you say rain?"

"No. Pain is a person," Itachi said, losing patience. "The leader of the Akatsuki. And rebuilding his village suits my needs."

Katsuro wrinkled his nose and opened his mouth wide, ready to ask another question. But Itachi cut him off with a wave of his hand.

"The details don't matter," he snapped. "It's just for you to understand why we're doing this. And anything I ask of you, you must do. Because it's for this one cause. Understand?"

Katsuro bobbed his head vigorously. To his young mind, it all made sense. "Yep. We're helping Rain because we're going to make it a better village than all the rest. Where everybody'll be free." Itachi nodded, satisfied.

He remembered that conversation because that was the moment when the promise of being a village shinobi — of being part of something larger, where he felt proud and knew he belonged — had become tangible.

Even now, years later, he hadn't forgotten that feeling of hope. It was clouded by the jobs he had to do — the genjutsus, the thefts, the blood and the occasional death — but it was still there, a far off goal. As far away as the old Rain village itself, hidden behind the mist.

Katsuro shielded his eyes and scanned the dry riverbed ahead of him. The Rain territory was dead ahead. Just like the captain said, all he had to do was follow that dark smudge on the horizon and he'd get there.

So Katsuro continued picking his way over the dusty river rocks, slowing moving through the dry, desolate lands that abutted the Rain territory.

Ame was a mysterious, secretive country set in a natural bowl of land, ringed by high cloud-capped mountains. There were only two passes in and out. Narrow one-lane cart paths blasted through of steep mountain walls. Both were treacherous, even for allies.

Listening to the old Rain soldiers talk at the campfires, Katsuro knew it wasn't always this way. Before the wars, the men claimed it was an open, friendly country, with large swaths of farmland instead of water-logged valleys.

And there were several passes through the mountains, where merchants trundled through lush cloud forests to trade with the thriving village. The steep mountains were the country's protection and the constant cycle of rainfall was it's bounty.

The rains fed down into the natural bowl, trickling in streams and rivulets until they united into one broad flat river. It flowed like gentle giant through the rolling valleys of the nation, until it reached the lowest border of the country. There it broke apart again, sluicing down the mountain in rapids or disappearing under the earth, carrying its waters down into the other nations.

In the heart of the country, the Village Hidden in the Rain rose up on a picturesque spit of land at the confluence of the great waters. Its citizens lived in harmony with the moving waters, using a magnificent system of interlocking canals to move around the village. The soldiers often waxed poetic about the "floating city," although few could claim to have seen it in it's heyday. Before the wars took their toll.

The bickering and strife that plagued the five great nations had long skirted the small Rain country. But being a tiny nation squashed between the others, their safety couldn't last forever.

It started small, just a few squads running espionage on their enemies and using the Rain country as their cover. But as it became apparent that the country was the easiest route of attack, war came to Rains' doorstep.

The five nations, in their attempts to constant foil one another, destroyed the land as it suited them. Trade roads were detonated to stop the advance of one nation. Rivers were dammed to dry up the lands of another. Katsuro remembered the old Rain soldiers blaming it on the shinobis. But Katsuro didn't think anyone could wield so much power they could move mountains or stop rivers.

The scars left on the land were permanent. Farmlands were flooded. Trade dried up. The five nations intensified their battles. And the Rain country turned on itself.

As the flood waters rose and food became scarce, citizens merged on the city demanding aid. Or blood. Factions broke off. Some went to fight the great nations. They never returned. Others gathered their goods on their backs and left, sloshing through former farmlands toward the only passes left open. Their lives were not much better outside the Rain country. Those that survived the ambushes by rogues and enemy nins faced a hard life in another territory that didn't want them.

The rest were left in the old city, stranded. 'Like rats on a raft,' the soldiers would say.

Many men came, one after another, promising aid. Upstarts from the five nations looking to make a name for themselves. Or quick money. They took what little the citizens had left. And gave nothing in return.

And into this power void came another man. The Salamander, the soldiers called him. He promised to rebuild the country, open the demolished passes and blast the land dams. But he was slippery. And the denizens of the flooded village soon realized he had no intention of restoring their city. He was a cruel dictator who controlled the trade, transportation, everything. It all went to his gain. And assassination was his chosen method of coercion.

Rain citizens were prisoners in their own land. Old farmers turned to fishing, and the once-thriving nation was reduced to a scattered network of fishing huts. The "floating city" was left to drown.

And that's when the rains started.

Katsuro toed the dusty path. The rocks ahead of him were strewn with dots. Those behind him were not.

A sprinkling rain fell like a curtain from the thin cloud-cover overhead. Yet the full, steel-grey clouds still loomed in the distance.

He frowned and put his hand out, watching the sprinkles spatter his hand. He had expected rain, of course, but not this far from the border pass.

He pulled his rain hood on and stepped into the line of the drizzle. The land around him was still barren, and the water ran away in muddy rivulets. He tucked his hand in his pocket, felt for the slim water-tight container holding the Rain scroll, then kept going.

Katsuro had delivered scrolls to the border before, but never beyond. The Rain citizens were a suspicious lot. So he never minded just handing the scroll to the man waiting for him in the dry wastelands at the edge of the Rain territory.

But the more time he spent with the captain and the old Rain soldiers, the more he was curious to see what the it was like there. Especially since it was the "floating city" that Itachi hoped to rebuild.

And he had to admit, he was also curious about the man the captain called the "Big Boss."

The Rain people had funny names for their leaders. The Big Boss. The Angel. He didn't know who they were or what they meant. But he knew those two were in control. Partners of some sort, a man and a woman. But that's all he knew.

The loyal soldiers would never say it, but some of the men they picked up would…. They would ask if it was true that the old village was ruled by an angel. And an devil.

The Rain soldiers laughed it off, but Katsuro noticed they never corrected them. Though they with a strange reverence for their woman, the "Angel," they were very tight lipped about the "Big Boss." All they would say was that he was an old war veteran. The woman worked with him to take care of the village. She did his bidding, carried out his orders, and issued decrees in his name. But no one ever saw him.

They came with the rain.

Katsuro had long suspected the Big Boss and Pain were the same person. Although the captain never spoke his name, and Itachi said it only rarely. But if the stories were true, then this was the man who stood up to the Salamander.

To hear the captain tell it, the man was treated like their savior. The captain was a younger man when he joined the fighting against the Salamander. And one of their soldiers led them all. He defeated the dictator, but at a great personal loss.

And at almost at the same moment of victory, the rains started.

Clouds descended from the forests, covering everything in a clinging fog. Then, the sky began to weep. And it never stopped.

It fell endlessly, through the bloody civil war that pitted Rain soldiers against the last of the Salamander's regime. Until marshes and swamps filled in where crops used to be and all the great nations forgot that there was even a country there. It was reduced to a smudge on a map, not even worth the trouble of naming.

Katsuro followed the old footpath up into the cool, cloud-covered forests. The rains were increasing. It spattered around him and dripped off the front of his hood. He approached the mountain pass, a dark trench cut through the rocks, and peered around at the fogged forest. Brown tree trunks disappeared into grey nothing.

He listened hard, but the only noise was the steady hiss and drum of raindrops on leaves. It fell evenly, wrapping around him in a curtain of sound. He had expected to be accosted by some guard on patrol. He gripped the scroll, waiting to flash it to verify his intent. But no one came. It appeared he was alone.

He released the scroll, slipped his hand forward to the kunai holstered on his thigh and slowly made his way through the narrow pass. Katsuro nervously eyed the high rock walls. But no one jumped down at him.

Out the other side of the pass, the woods disappeared again into the mist. Katsuro had the eerie feeling he was being watched. He unholstered his kunai. Letting the water run down his face, he stood still and waited. But nothing happened. He was truly alone.

So he began his slow descent into the Rain territory. But he kept his kunai out just in case.

The footpath wound down the mountain, at times growing steep. He slipped on a moss-covered stone and the sack of metal clanked loudly at his side. Not even the steady downpour could mask that sound.

Re-holstering the kunai for his own safety, he pondered the enigma of this country. And Pain.

Katsuro was mildly curious just to get a look at the guy. He must be tough if he went by the name "Pain." Katsuro snickered softly at the thought.

Itachi rarely spoke of any of the Akatsuki. But he did mention Pain with a note of respect. So Katsuro was inclined to think he was more like he and Itachi, someone with a power to be hidden and protected, than some of the other Akatuski men. Like Kisame. He shuddered at that thought.

The rain pounded ceaselessly, enveloping him.

Katsuro continued down the rain slicked mountainsides until finally the ground began to flatten out. The temperature was a little warmer, and he realized he was in a bowl of land. It was mucky and swampy and perpetually foggy as he slogged over once-rolling farmlands. But at least the rain was beginning to ease up.

He pushed on, finally coming to the great marsh the captain had told him about. Somewhere beyond he'd find an old fishing village. Katsuro had followed the meandering tributaries for what felt like an eternity when sure enough, out of the mist in the distance poked a jagged line of old huts. He sloshed toward them.

A rise in the land separated the marsh and vast water. Teetering on stilts, a handful of fishing shacks clung to the desolate shore. Tattered nets hung from tall poles behind the huts, waiting to be used. Water lapped against the stilts and an old bamboo wind chime stuttered a few hollow sounds with the breeze.

Mercifully, the rain had slowed to a fine drizzle.

Katsuro peered up at the first shanty. The limp edge of a curtain moved at the window. But there was nothing else. He chalked it up to the breeze. The place looked empty.

So Katsuro waited. He looked out, trying to see where the grey water disappeared into the grey mist, but he could not. It just melted together seamlessly. He heaved a sigh.

Now that he was here, he was really hoping to see what the old Rain village looked like. Or at least, what was left of it. Since Itachi had spent years orchestrating everything for its resurrection, he'd like to see it for himself.

And Pain, too. Would he be like Itachi? Or more like Kisame…?

Katsuro watched the water, expecting a large boat to roll out of the fog at any moment. But there was no movement on the still waters. Just the steady lapping of water beneath the fishing huts.

The longer he waited, water running in thin rivulets down his cloak, the more exposed he felt. It was the same at the mountain pass, that eerie feeling he was being watched. He eyed the shacks again and this time saw movement inside, a silhouette behind the curtain. Katsuro realized there must be fishermen or their families inside. Probably hiding, he decided. He breathed a quick sigh of relief. He couldn't blame them for being suspicious, not with everything they'd probably endured—

Just then, the lapping took on a different tone. It slapped against something solid. Katsuro peered hard and saw long pole spearing out of the mist, guiding a flat-bottom boat to shore. It was narrow and long, and a single man stood at the back. Katsuro was just wondering if it could support the two of them, when the man jumped off and splashed through the small surf towards Katsuro.

He had the same pasty, gaunt look that all the Rain countrymen had. Too little sun. Too much rain. And he wore the same black fatigues as the captain. A Rain soldier. He approached Katsuro with his hand out and a hard look on his face.

Katsuro pulled out the scroll and passed it over. The man read the note, then without looking up opened his other hand for the sack. Katsuro dropped it into his palm. He finished reading, then inspected its contents.

Satisfied, he grunted, "It's good. Deliver the rest." Then he turned to go.

Katsuro had still hoped to see the village. "Wait! That's the message then? The…uh, B-Big Boss doesn't need to see it?" The epithet sounded clumsy and unnatural coming from him. He hoped the soldier didn't notice.

He was wrong

The man swiveled back and sneered, "No kid! That's the message! No one sees th-the B-B-Big Boss," he stuttered, mocking Katsuro. "_Especially_ not runts like you. Now take off!"

Katsuro bristled, but he instantly realized his mistake. All Rain soldiers were surly and distrustful. The only exception was the old captain. This man didn't know him, so even hinting at being taken to the village was seen as suspicious.

The soldier didn't care, though. He was already stalking back to the boat. Suddenly he swatted a hand in the direction of the old shacks. Katsuro followed his line of sight in time to see a silhouette moved at the window of the closest hut. The corners of Katsuro's mouth twitched up. He decided that the tough soldier didn't like the watching eyes of the old fishermen either.

Wiping the mist from his face, Katsuro turned to trudge back up into the mountains. Back into the curtain of pounding rain.

* * *

Katsuro returned to find that the camp life he had grown accustomed had been completely dissolved. It took him several days to even catch up with them. And when he did, he was surprised to find that most of the men had been paid off and dismissed. And, knowing Itachi, they were probably sent packing with a light jutsu to cover their tracks too.

Only the old soldiers and most capable of men were left. No more babysitting local thugs.

So Katsuro spent the next few weeks moving with the remains of their group as they tried to lay low. Fall was coming, and with the harvest the towns and trade routes would be bustling.

But Katsuro knew they were waiting for fallout from the ambush. Waiting to see which country would make the first move, and if Itachi's plan would prove right….

So it was a complete surprise to enter the captain's tent and find Itachi and three unfamiliar young men, just as the phrase "Katsuro's team" floated through the open door.

"Come in, Katsuro," the captain smiled. But Itachi did not.

Katsuro quietly closed the flap behind him, not trusting what he'd just heard.

Three teens, about Katsuro's age or a little older, stood off to the side. They were all taller than Katsuro, the biggest one by nearly a head.

The captain beamed like Katsuro was about to receive a great present. But Itachi's pale face remained impassive.

"Katsuro, this is Taichi, Koro and Joro. They will be your new team."

The three stood in a knot and looked him up and down. The biggest one Taichi, a beefy kid with muscled forearms and a thick neck, snorted and looked away, unimpressed. The other two must have been brothers. They favored each other with their lanky build and sleek pony tails. But whereas Koro had the rugged face and squashed nose of a fighter, Joro's smooth aristocratic visage was at odds with his shabby clothes. Both brothers looked liked they wanted to laugh at Katsuro.

Katsuro looked from the teens to Itachi and back again. There had to be a catch.

After a long pause, filled with a some snickering from the three, Katsuro cleared his throat.

"I…uh, didn't know I was getting a team. But…that's uh…great! What were your names again?" He realized that was a detail he should have paid closer attention to.

The biggest, Taichi, snorted. "Can't even remember our names? Are you sure your even old enough to lead a group of _men_ like use? Why don't you just follow us, little pup—"

Katsuro's face went red. _These weren't skilled fighters! They were only thugs, local street rats no different from all the rest._ He threw up his hands and shot Itachi a questioning glance.

But Itachi remained stoic. Katsuro redoubled, guessing that _this_ was the catch. The others were off doing duties, things that mattered, while Katsuro was saddled with a team of idiots. This seemed like the kind of punishment Itachi would cook up. He'd always wanted a team of his own hadn't he? Yeah, well, now he had one.

Katsuro grit his teeth. He didn't care about names. He'd call them whatever the hell he wanted.

"Well, what can you do? Can you fight?" Katsuro pointed to Koro's broken nose. "Maybe _he_ can, but it looks like he lost."

The kid made a fist and snarled his lip in a silent threat.

Katsuro shook his head, rolled his eyes and turned to Itachi, ready to tell him that he'd rather work alone than do anything with these windbags, when Itachi spoke.

"This group seemed well-suited for you, Katsuro. After all, I discovered them in a village you once visited." His voice was dangerously calm. "I thought you might have even crossed paths." He tipped his head, looking Katsuro right in the eye.

Katsuro went still. He looked back to the three then quietly asked the obvious. "Where are you from?"

"Yoshino-shi," the big one said, inspecting his nails. "If you've been there, then you've seen us. We rule the streets there." He drew himself up, expecting Katsuro to be impressed. When Katsuro didn't speak, he continue proudly.

"Joro gets their attention," Joro flashed a winning smile, "while I rob them blind from the other side. And Koro jumps in if they put up a fight." Koro popped his knuckles and sneered in what Katsuro guessed a smile.

Katsuro shrugged. "Eh, Never heard of it." But his mind was racing. The name didn't ring a bell. Three glorified bullies…from a village….

Taichi scoffed. "Of course you have. Everyone has. Our cherry trees are the best in the world! Which means our _take_ is the richest!" He waggled his eyebrows while the others snickered.

And suddenly it clicked. Cherry blossoms. A bustling trade village. _Sakura._

_These_ were the punks she ran into in the alley.

Katsuro felt the heat begin to rise at the memory. Three thugs, taunting her in the dark alley. The biggest standing over, leering at her—

Katsuro forced his face to stay blank. He could feel the weight of Itachi's stare on him.

_This_ was the catch. The real one. These guys weren't just a squad, they were a weight around his ankle. It was Itachi's subtle way of reminding him that he was being watched.

Katsuro squared his shoulders. Itachi had obviously jutsu'd them. He would have seen that Sakura was with those thugs in the alley, and he would've guessed it was Katsuro coming out of the darkness, even though his face was shrouded by his hood.

But Katsuro had already confessed to seeing her. So Itachi wouldn't have learned anything he didn't already know.

Katsuro saw this new team for what it truly was. A test.

Leading a permanent group served two purposes. To keep Katsuro occupied with training and chasing after troublemakers, and to clip his own wings. Now, every move he made would be accounted for.

Katsuro cleared his throat. Itachi was still watching him, waiting, expecting him to show any sign of disloyalty, any flicker of leftover feelings. Katsuro wouldn't give him that satisfaction.

"Never heard of it," he said carelessly. "And we sure as hell don't need any more thugs or glorified pickpockets around here." The three began to argue back when Itachi interrupted.

"Taichi knows the lands beyond the Earth and Wind countries better than anyone else." Katsuro looked skeptical. "And Joro and Koro are masterful at deception. The three together will suit our needs very well."

Katsuro looked skeptically at three, who were standing a little taller after that introduction.

"Yeah," Taichi drawled. "Let us deliver your messages. Your young pup can tag along and see how it's done."

Itachi merely raised an eyebrow. But the muscle at Katsuro's jaw jumped.

"My team," Katsuro said in a low, threatening voice. "_I'll_ be the one in charge."

The three looked at him and smirked. Itachi leaned back and folded his arms over his chest. Even the captain watched quietly, curious to see how the standoff would end.

Katsuro knew the first thing he had to do with new recruits was to show them who was boss. He'd seen the captain do it dozens of times.

So Katsuro widened his stance, propped his hands on his hips and jutted his chin out, tipping his face up to the three taller boys. He gave his best impression of the captain. Even stealing his lines.

"You may have been promised good money," Katsuro barked, "but if you want it, you'll be taking your orders from me. Now, your first step closer to your coin is to get outside and show me what you can do!"

He pointed to the door.

No one moved. Then, cursing, Taichi slowly turned toward the door. He stalked out, glaring at Katsuro as he passed by. Joro and Koro followed.

Katsuro knew, from watching the captain, that the promise of steady pay was too much to resist. It always worked over the new recruits. Better than the promise of wine, women or a good thrashing.

Katsuro turned back to the two men left in the tent. The captain beamed like a proud parent. Even Itachi's lips curved faintly after Katsuro's act.

"I _am_ curious to see how you will manage your own squad," Itachi said. There was a note of honesty in his voice.

Katsuro ignored it and instead looked him straight in the eye. They both knew this had nothing to do with new teams.

"I will not disappoint you, Itachi-sama." It was the same phrase he uttered after that awful night. And he meant it.

Itachi nodded solemnly, accepting Katsuro's unspoken message.

* * *

Fall winds blew across the land, and with it came many changes.

Katsuro learned that his special team was to be a messenger service for the Akatsuki, among other odd jobs that they might be called on to perform. But their primary function, though the three in his unit would not know, was deliver scrolls between from the Rain headquarters to the Akatsuki members. Katsuro would carry the scrolls; his team would serve as his protection and ultimately a sacrifice if he needed to escape.

They didn't know that, of course. But they should have been able to figure it out. After all, they were a team in name only.

For the first several weeks Katsuro spent every waking hour training them. And they spent every waking hour fighting him. They were insolent and surly, and would rather drink late and sleep in than get up and work. But he didn't care. He dragged their sorry butts out of the tents anyway, put kunais in their hands and made them throw at a single mark on a tree until they hit it. Over and over again. Just as Itachi had taught him.

At first they didn't want to take orders from someone younger and smaller than they were. "The young pup" they openly called him.

That stopped completely when Katsuro finally took Koro up on his offer of "a real fight-club style fight. Just to show you how it's done. You're so little, they'd probably never let you in the door!" The others laughed and came out to the campfire to see the brawl.

The show didn't last long.

Katsuro knocked Koro out with a single blow, then stepped over him to take down the much larger Taichi without batting an eye.

Taichi, being more parts bluster than hard-headed fight-loving Koro, stepped back and threw up his hands in a show of deference.

Behind him, Joro laughed, saying that "they were just giving you a hard time. You understand, just playing around! No hard feelings, right?!" Dimples peeked out on his smooth cheeks as he worked the charming smile he used so effectively on others. But Katsuro was pleased to hear the nervousness behind his laugh just the same.

The stripped-down camp was always on the move now. And Taichi proved useful in guiding them along shaded short-cuts to hidden coves.

The territories had always been risky, but now they were downright dangerous. Pockets of warring shinobis could pop up even in the sleepiest towns.

Just as Itachi had planned, the battle-thirsty shinobi villages had launched a secret war after the ambush, and the territories were overrun with nins. Not just the five nations either. Every country had sent out spies or squads to protect their interests. Distrust was rampant. No one was safe, no land untouched by suspicion or the threat of bloodshed.

Except for the Rain territory. That land was forgotten. An overlooked puddle right in the middle of everything. Which was exactly what Itachi wanted. He'd set the stage, now everyone was playing their part.

All the way down to Katsuro and his team.

Katsuro's job was to hunt down the Akatsuki members in their bars or tea houses or mountain tops, and hand-deliver a message from Rain's elusive leader,: The next phase of the plan was underway. Katsuro figured it would all be outlined in the little grey scrolls. But in case the scroll was lost, all that was needed were those words. The Akatsuki members would know what to do.

So Katsuro set out for the arid territories beyond between rocky Earth Country to the north and the vast desert of the Wind Country to the south. His first scroll was destined for Deidara and Sasori. And he had no idea where they might be. But Itachi said to start in the territories beyond the Rain. So that's where they headed.

The travel was hard and the were nights growing colder, but for the first time Katsuro was part of a team. He didn't have a shared history like they did, but he had to admit it was interesting to hear their stories night after night. It was nice being around people his own age who didn't automatically hate him, like the rest of the recruits always did.

His mind would often wander when the set up camp at night, as he built the fire and listened to the three good-naturedly squabble. Soon they'd be recounting stories about misadventures, close scrapes and hearty victories.

Katsuro couldn't help but wonder if this was the way it was in the shinobi villages. If he had grown up in Konoha, would he feel this way? This sense of camaraderie? Sakura certainly made it seem like that.

But those thoughts were dangerous. He closed his mind to the memories and propped his fish on the makeshift spit over the fire, moving it farther away from the licking flames. The other three leaned forward and positioned theirs as well, moving theirs to the center.

Katsuro watched the firelight dance over their faces as they settled into comfortable spots to wait for their dinner to cook. He'd learned a lot about his men in the months they'd been together.

Taichi may have known his way around all the small countries, but that was only because of his insatiable lust for gambling. He knew of — and had been _thrown out of_ — nearly every gaming den in the territories. Joro and Koro weren't much better. Twin brothers, their pleasures were clear on their faces. Joro, with his boyish good looks and smooth charm, headed straight for the tea houses. While the powdered women smiled and blushed for him, they never looked at his brother. Not Koro that cared. His broken nose was a badge of honor at the fight clubs.

Money, or the lack of it, was what brought them together in the beginning. As Taichi told it, he'd gotten a tip on a big spender, a legendary sucker, who was going to be his favorite gambling house the next night. But there was no way they'd let him in. He was, at that moment, sitting on the curb outside, nursing a fat lip courtesy of the back door bouncer, and licking the even worse wound of being taken for all of his money. Those fat old men…. If only he could scrape together enough coin, he'd buy his way back into the game and win it back—

Just then, Koro came flying out of a door down the dark alley, landing on his back. The door slammed shut, but not before the sounds of laughter filtered out. The man at the door sneered, "I keep telling you, you're too young to fight here! But I'll keep your share of the winnings so we both can remember!" The the door swung shut and the alley was quiet again.

Holding a badly bleeding nose, Koro stumbled up the dark lane. He dropped to the curb a few feet from Taichi, tipped his head back and shoved a rag to his nose.

Taichi spit watery blood from his lip. "Looks like you're worse off than me."

Koro gave a nasally laugh.

Just then another boy appeared at the mouth of the narrow alley. He peered into the darkness, face brightening when he saw the broken-nosed kid.

"Oi! He beat you again?!" The dapper kid came down the alley, nodded once at Taichi, then came to stand in front of the injured boy.

Koro nodded, making snuffling sounds of agreement.

"He take your share of the winnings?" Koro nodded miserably. "Damn," he sighed and dropped to the curb, not caring that the wet filth of the alley would surely stain his obviously stolen silken clothes.

"Wha' 'bout yoo?" Koro said through his rag.

Joro shook his head. "Naw, Momo said she's tired of giving me loans. And the mothers of the other houses won't even let me near their door."

Koro motioned with his elbow at Joro's clothes. "You like 'em? Saw them at an open window when I was cutting behind a teahouse." Dimples peeked out on Joro's round cheeks and his eyes twinkled. "The owner was a little to _preoccupied_ to care," he said, chuckling.

"But Bro, I needed you to come through on that coin. What the hell are we going to do now? The night's too young to spend it alone…."

Taichi scooted closer to the two. "You need money?" The brothers looked up.

"Why, you have some you want to part with?" Joro looked him up and down skeptically, then at stubs in his fist blazoned in red calligraphy "Bao's Game Parlor" and took an educated guess. "Looks like you're out too, friend."

Taichi crumpled the stubs in his hand and scooted closer. "If your friend there can get his money, then I know a way we could double it!"

"My _brother_," Joro said pointedly, "doesn't have a problem winning money. It's getting out the door with it that's the trick."

Taichi tipped his head, not understanding.

"He wins his fights, and they all know it," Joro snarled, thumbing at the door down the alley where another sap was getting pitched out. "So they let him fight, even though he's too young, collect bets on him, then keep his money."

Taichi scratched his head. "You win your matches, but you can't take the owner?"

Koro pulled the rag away from his nose and tipped his head way back, keeping the blood in. "Yoo haben't seen the bownser."

"He's a mountain," Joro nodded. Koro grimaced and replaced the rag just as blood was beginning to ooze again.

Joro stretched out his legs in front of him and looked admiringly at his clothes. "All this, just wasted. And Momo was looking so good tonight too…. What I wouldn't give for a little sake, and a sweet girl to drink it with—"

Taichi leaned closer, grinning and splitting his lip again. But he didn't feel the pain. "Listen, I have an idea…."

So that night they went back to the teahouses, this time stealing some of the women's clothes. They waited in the alley until the club emptied out. The last two to leave were the bouncer and the owner. They watched them walk up the alley, and when Joro whistled, Taichi and Koro rose up from the shadows to throw perfumed kimonos right over the two men's heads.

Taichi, already big for his young age, smashed his meaty fist into the bouncer's face. His hand hurt, and he didn't think he did any real damage to the bouncer, but it bought Koro some time to grab the sack winnings out of the front of the owner's robe. In that moment, Joro came running down the alley trailing a long stolen sash. He looped it around struggling men, kimonos and all, then the three boys tore off down the back of the alley, laughing about their success.

The next night, while Koro nursed his broken nose, Taichi and Joro returned to the gambling house. The made sure to stay away from the alley, although the fight club door was noticeably quiet.

With stolen clothes, Taichi and Joro entered the game room. A busty blond sat eyeing the low table before her. The men around her stroked their beards, sipped their sake and watched her, waiting for her next move. She'd been playing for a while, but had not produced the money they were hoping for. Taichi nodded to Joro, and Joro quickly returned with two glasses and a jug of the house's finest sake.

Taichi sat down beside the busty woman and offered her a drink, while Joro made small talk with her friend. In no time at all, Taichi and the big spender were clinking their glasses like old friends. And then the dice started rolling.

It was just like the old men had said. She was a legendary sucker. Taichi more than tripled Koro's money.

Leaving her trying to win back her losses, Taichi and Joro tripped out the front of the gambling house, jingling their bagged winnings.

They were just congratulating each other when they came even with the alley. It was late. The owner and bouncer stood in the dim lamplight, obviously discussing last night's theft. When the men looked up, recognized Koro's brother and fat sacks of coins in their hands, they decided they had their culprits. It didn't help that Taichi and Joro incriminated themselves by immediately bolting.

They raced through the town, Joro breaking off to gather Koro at their flop house while Taichi led the men away. The three met up on the out on the trade road, and they'd been traveling together ever since, running the same swindle in every town they could. And more often than not getting chased out.

Taichi stretched his long legs out by the fire and threaded his hands behind his head. He sighed with satisfaction. "Yep. Joro cozies up to the girls, finds out which game houses are the easiest pickings, Koro wins his fights, and I double our money. Works like a charm."

Katsuro rolled his eyes, thinking to himself that if their plans worked that well, they wouldn't have such a good knowledge of every hidey-hole from here to the Rain territory. And if they made that much money, they wouldn't have been so eager to take Itachi's.

But they were used to being on the move. So that suited him fine. At least they wouldn't slow him down.

The sudden smell of smoke had the three jumping to get their fish before they burned up completely.

While his men bounced the too-hot fish from hand to hand — Koro even going so far as to take a nibble only to scald is tongue — Katsuro took his fish from the edge of the fire. The stick was warm but not too hot to hold. He picked back the lightly charred skin to reveal perfectly steamed white meat.

* * *

The months grew colder and the missions more tedious. Winter was well upon them by the time they'd tracked down Deidara and Sasori in one of the string of tiny countries beyond the Wind and Earth nations.

Stone and Birds, Stars and Caves, Fangs and Valleys…. The lands were as small and uninspiring as their names. But the shinobis clashes of the great nations had yet to spread into these far flung lands

It was after two days in the arid Land of Plains, poking through every cluster of slap-dash buildings that passed for a town, that Katsuro finally found who he was looking for. Outside a dusty road-side dango stand sat a man with an unmistakeable plume of white-blond hair. _Deidara._

"Wait for me here," Katsuro said firmly to the three men, and pointed to a bench behind a tumble-down shed at the far end of the one lane town. This probably wasn't going to end well, knowing Deidara.

They shrugged, but didn't argue.

Katsuro left them and walked up the lane, scanning everything. Sasori was nowhere to be seen.

Seated on a bench at a worn wooden table, Deidara looked deceptively comfortable. He pushed back the curtain of pale hair and sunk his teeth into the sweet dumpling. He was concentrating on keeping the syrup from dripping on his black Akatsuki cloak when Katsuro approached.

Never looking up, Deidara waved him to the empty bench across from him. Katsuro wasn't surprised. Even doing something mindless, Akatsuki were all still paranoid as hell. He probably knew Katsuro was there the moment he set foot in the town.

Katsuro stood across from him, but did not sit.

Deidara grunted a greeting and finished the skewer of dango. Finally he sat back, crossed his legs, slowly wiped his mouth.

"What brings the pleasure of this visit, little Katsuro?"

"Deidara-sama," was all Katsuro said as he held out the scroll. But Deidara did not stir to take it.

"I assume Itachi was too busy to come himself," he drawled cooly.

"It is not from Itachi-sama."

Deidara tipped his head and regarded the scroll. "No…it's not, is it." He sighed and unfolded his arm. "Fine, I'll take it."

The mouth in Deidara's open palm smiled cheekily up at Katsuro. Katsuro handed over the scroll, making sure to keep his fingers out of the way of the swishing tongue. He didn't let it show how much those extra mouths really creeped him out. That was exactly what Deidara wanted.

"If there is nothing else…." Katsuro said, hoping there wouldn't be. He wanted to get away before anything could go awry.

But Deidara did not open the scroll to read it. "There _is_ something else, now that you mention it." He laid the scroll on the table and pushed forward the tray of dango. "Have a seat. You look hungry. Stay and visit for a while."

Katsuro bowed. "Thank you Deidara-sama. But I can not stay—"

"Itachi has been bragging about you." Deidara smiled conspiratorially. "Says you are quite brave. Powerful. You might even one day join our organization."

Katsuro bowed again. "No, Deidara-sama. I am merely the messenger. And I have other messages to deliver." He knew any kindness from him was a trap.

"You see, that proves it! You _must_ to be brave to think you can refuse _me_ so easily!" He still smiled, but his blue eyes were clear and cold. "I just want to know a little more about you…. Why would Itachi, who always thinks he's so much more important than everyone else, with his missions and plans and secrets," he snarled jealously before sharpening his focus back on Katsuro, "keep someone like you around…?"

A gentle clicking filled the air, growing louder and closer. It saved Katsuro from responding. Both turned to see Sasori approaching from the same direction Katsuro had just come. He cringed inwardly, hoping that his men hadn't gotten themselves killed.

Katsuro knew this may be his only chance to escape.

"Deidara-sama," he bowed quickly in farewell, and strode out into the road, hoping to get around Sasori before he was caught between the two.

But Sasori came to a stop in the middle of the road. His tail circled down and hovered threateningly over the shadowed ground beneath his cloak. Only Katsuro was close enough to see it.

Too late, he thought. He was trapped. "Sasori-sama," Katsuro bowed deeply. "A message has been left for you."

Sasori had no inclination toward pleasantry. "_Katsuro,_" he growled. The triangular rag over his mouth shuddered. "There _is_ something strange about you boy…."

Rattling like hollow bones, Sasori's tail arched out and circled around Katsuro.

Katsuro stilled but let no fear show on his face.

"Perhaps I should cut Itachi's strings and make you my puppet instead," Sasori taunted. The tip of the tail jittered in Katsuro's peripheral vision.

But suddenly Sasori's interest sharpened. His glassy eyes narrowed. "You haven't changed since the last time I saw you."

Tail forgotten for the moment, Sasori himself began circle the boy, looking over every inch of him slowly. Methodically.

"Not…one…bit…."

Deidara stood suddenly, open scroll in hand. "Leave him Sasori no Danna," he announced with surprising authority. "We've finally gotten our orders. It's time. Let's go."

Deidara's flippant air had evaporated. Katsuro wondered just what was in that scroll—

Sasori must have sensed the importance of it as well. Shooting a last suspicious look at Katsuro, he followed Deidara's command and shuffled away. His tail recoiled into the cloak as he left.

Katsuro felt safe enough to take a shaky breath when Deidara called out. "You tell your _'Itachi-sama'_" he sneered, shaking the scroll, "I'll beat him in this as well!"

Not stopping to decipher Deidara's jealous jab, Katsuro only nodded once then strode quickly away.

It was only at the edge of the one-lane town that he began to let his guard down. He was surprised Deidara didn't lob a few explosions at him. Must have been something very important in that scroll—

He spied the old shed and suddenly remembered his team. They were supposed to be hiding behind it.

It occurred to him that Sasori might have wiped them out already. He approached the shed, bracing himself for the sight of bodies. Bodies belonging to men whom he was responsible for—

"Oi! Look at it! I swear that's not human!"

"Move! Let me see!"

The three stood on the rickety bench. They hunched under the eaves of the old shed, tipping their heads for a view through the large gaps where the boards didn't meet the roof. They had a straight shot at all the action.

Katsuro had to laugh.

Joro hopped down first. "Hey boss," Katsuro's smile deepened at the respectful epithet he'd obviously picked up from the Rain soldiers, "who were those guys?"

"They look like they're bad news," Taichi said, stepping down behind him.

Koro followed. "Yeah, and what was the fighting apparatus on the one? I've never seen anything like it at the clubs."

Standing at the center of the three older boys, Katsuro was warmed by their attention. Their questions and implied respect made him feel like he belonged. He really was glad they were alive. This was _his_ team.

And it helped that were as creeped out by Deidara and Sasori as he always was.

"Eh, they're just some men that the Big Boss uses. They do his dirty work, you could say." They nodded, not questioning his intentionally vague terms.

"But yeah," he chuckled. "They are bad news. In fact," Katsuro confessed, "I try to stay away from them as much as possible."

"Yeah, no kidding," Koro breathed, shuddering at the mere memory. Taichi slapped him hard on the back for being scared. Then they all laughed. In high spirits, they left the dusty Stone country town behind them.

That night, while Katsuro listened to their friendly chatter at the campfire, he reflected that this had been their first real test as a team. And it had gone well. Great, in fact.

He had gotten the whole team-thing licked. He could practically hear the captain's praises now. Maybe they'd assign him even more men, send them on more dangerous missions infiltrating hidden camps and—

Joro guffawed just then at something Taichi had said. The sound echoed into the treetops.

"Oops! Sorry boss," he said, grinning at Katsuro. "We'll keep it down!"

Katsuro's returned an earnest smile. He knew he should be immune to it, that's what the captain would say of course, but the compliment of being their "boss" warmed him more than the fire on that chilly night.

The next day, their route took them back through the territories, near bustling towns the three knew well. They recounted stories and hinted longingly of just stopping in, "just for a quick peek," they promised. Katsuro had to tell them no, but they seemed to understand his position and didn't argue back, although they sulked a little longer after each missed opportunity.

When they stopped for the night in the quiet woods above a bustling Stone Country town, they looked down at the town lights and sighed dejectedly.

It was as if it were abject tortured for them to be so close to their old stomping grounds and not be allowed to go. Katsuro hid his smile.

But maybe letting them go into the town wasn't such a bad idea…. Just one town, and just to gather some data. They could visit all their old haunts, behave as they always had _and_ pick up any new information they.

What a great idea….

While they were busy making the fire, Katsuro pulled a wad of bills out of his rucksack. They'd saved quite a bit of their ration money by catching their own food. Katsuro took out half the bills, rolled them up tightly and dropped them in his pocket. He turned back to his team with the other half.

Katsuro was rewarded by seeing their faces light up and the promise they'd find out everything the possibly could. Taichi took the money, and the smoldering fire was forgotten. Katsuro waved them off, telling them to have a good time but keep a low profile and find out what they could.

What a mistake.

Three hours later, fish steaming over the campfire, Taichi trudged back into the campsite. He had blown all of his share of the money, as well as Koro's, and the portion he'd been able to bum off Joro. So he was back for more, promising to win it back…oh and to find out about that information too…. Yeah, he'd, uh, forgotten about that. But if he had another chance he was sure he could win— that is, find out what Katsuro wanted.

Katsuro narrowed his eyes, realizing the error he'd made, just as Koro came trundling into camp. He was limping, his eye was purpling and his lip was fat. And he cradled his fingers in his hand.

Katsuro's mouth flattened into a line. "And what the hell happened to you?"

"Taichi and I stopped a couple girls in the alley. We just wanted to talk but…. Well, they put up more of a fight than we expected." Koro smiled past the swelling, evidently proud that not all of his wounds came from the fight club.

"Probably ninjas," Taichi groused. "Dammit I hate ninjas. 'Specially girl ones—"

Katsuro's jaw dropped. He didn't know what to take issue with first. Did the dumbass really not know he was standing next to a ninja? Although it was true that Katsuro had not used any shinobi skills, still he thought it was obvious— And was this how he treated Sakura?! Real anger bloomed in Katsuro's chest.

Taichi, though was turning petulant. "Don't hold out on us buddy! We know you've got extra cash, so let us have it and we'll go get you what you want!"

Koro jumped in too. "I got a tip about another fight, with a bigger pot than tonight's. Maybe if we stay one more day—"

A familiar heat was creeping up Katsuro's cheeks. He had been foolish to think he was their "boss" _or_ their "buddy." He wasn't their friend. And he never would be. His responsibility was to the mission. He'd made a terrible mistake.

Just then Joro came thrashing up the hillside. Bare-chested and bare-footed, he was hoisting up too-large dress pants at his waist. His other hand crushed a white silk shirt and shoes. None of it was his.

"What the hell happened to you!?" Katsuro's incensed voice echoed into the forest.

"Come on!" Joro panted. "We've got to go!" He dropped the shoes — woven bath thongs, obviously property of some now-barefooted village geisha — and held the shirt out to put it on. But instead of sleeves, two big white pant legs unfurled in front of him.

"Dammit! I thought it was a shirt!" He pitched it aside and shoved his feet in his shoes. He scuffed frantically around the campsite shoving what was left of his things into his rucksack.

Katsuro opened his mouth to yell every curse he'd ever known, when the sound of angry voices ricocheted up to hillside.

The others already knew the drill from their years on the run. Not sparing another look at Katsuro, Taichi, Koro and Joro scrambled for their things and turned to leave. With or without Katsuro.

Katsuro locked his jaw. The vein at temple throbbed. Torch lights bobbed closer.

"Shit," Katsuro swore savagely. Then he grabbed his things too. Better to let the townsmen think that they were just traveling thieves. Then he wouldn't have to cover their tracks.

He took one last look back: the fish on the campfire were almost finished cooking. A pair of women's bloomers glowed white against the leafy ground. Stomach growling, he tore himself away and chased after his team, just as the yelling men from town rounded the hilltop.

From that point, everything unraveled for the team. Their detour pushed them into the Earth country. To keep out of sight from shinobi guard at the borders, Katsuro skirted as close as he could to the Rain territory. It was a three-day trek through icy winter rains. And the team barely spoke one word to each other.

When Katsuro would leave to buy food — fires were out of the question here — he saw the three huddled around each other, whispering and eyeing him, even as the rain beat down. Taichi seemed to have the biggest chip on his shoulder. Katsuro kept the money on him at all times.

Since that night, they had been surly and insolent, reverting to the three boneheaded thugs he'd met in Itachi's tent. He had forgotten what a pain in the ass they were in those first few weeks.

And he had no illusions that if Taichi could rob him of their ration money, they'd run off and leave him.

Now he really understood how hard the captain's job must be. He was responsible for an entire army of degenerates.

It made him feel better that the captain didn't see Katsuro as one of those. Unlike Itachi, the captain was someone Katsuro never felt had a hidden agenda. He put his faith in Katsuro just as readily as he put his faith in his fallen country. One day it would return, and he was helping get it to that day.

It was a nice thought that Katsuro wasn't a burden to the old captain the way this lot were to him. Surly, ungrateful and apparently spoiling for a fight.

Katsuro ignored their grumbled threats and treated them as he had done every other thug that came through camp. Even though this was _his_ team, they were _no_ teammates.

A rutted cart path cut through the sodden field in front of them. Katsuro eyed it, but trying to steer clear of towns headed north to cut around it. The rain clouds still stretched out far beyond Rain's borders, covering the land in a grey pall.

They traversed a slippery ravine and crept into a high pine forest, when Katsuro held his hand up for them to stop. The men groaned, but Katsuro waved for silence. Rain hissed through the canopy.

They were alone. But _something_ had happened here.

A thin line slashed the side of a tree. Katsuro narrowed his eyes through the rain and stepped forward to inspect it.

Running his fingers over the gash, he could see now that all trees bore the telltale signs of fighting. Blade marks slashed the sides. Deep gouges marred the centers.

He peeled back the bark beside one deep puncture to find a red stain had seeped into the tree. Blood. This was the work of shinobis.

Someone moaned pitifully from deeper in the woods. Katsuro's hand froze on the tree. There were more gouges on the wet-black trees. Eyes wide for any movement, he slowly backed away.

At the edge of the ravine, Katsuro spoke in harsh whispers. "There's been a fight here. There may still be nins lurking around. We've got to get out of here."

He started back down the steep sided ravine, water streaming down the footpath ahead of him, when he heard a loud "No way!" behind him.

Taichi stood at the top, flanked by Koro and Joro. His arms were folded and resistance was written on his face.

"Come on," Katsuro yelled as loudly as he dared. "Shinobis will kill you just as soon as they'll me! And there's bodies up there already!" Rain water spit out with his words. "There is no other way around but down!

Seeing reason, Taichi and the others followed. But Katsuro knew they weren't happy about it.

He wasn't happy with them either.

They skidded back down and retraced their route. At the sodden brown field, Katsuro eyed the two-track cart path. It surely led to a town. But in the pouring rain, he reasoned, they were less likely to draw attention there than they were slogging through the woods. Katsuro turned onto the path.

The road wound through more woodlands and fields before turning abruptly and going straight up into a hillside town. Jumbled buildings staggered up the road like children's blocks. The first had a hanging sign with "Tea & Sake" scrawled down it.

"Oi! Let's take a break," Koro called out. "How 'bout some warm sake and—"

"We're not stopping," Katsuro barked back from a few paces ahead. "We've finished our assignment and we need to get back. We don't want to call any more attention to ourselves than _we already have_."

"_We_ don't have to do anything you say, _kid!_" Taichi folded his arms and glared up at Katsuro. The brothers flanked him. "_We're_ stopping here!"

Katsuro turned around. The were frozen in the standoff for a moment, rain forming a fine mist around them as it bounced off.

Katsuro grit his teeth, thinking of all the ways he could make them comply. As if answering him, heat from the demon churned in his gut. But Katsuro remembered how the captain kept order.

"You want to stop? Fine. But I'm going back. And when I get there, _I'll_ be collecting your pay."

Katsuro turned to go, and not surprisingly, they followed.

Water spilled out of the shallow drains and flooded down the cobbled road. Only the raised stones in the center stayed out of the run off. Doors were closed, windows shuttered and awnings sagged with the weight of the rain.

Taichi was gouging holes in the swollen corners to let the rain funnel out. But more often than not this resulted in deep tears to the already ragged awnings.

Katsuro yelled back once for him to stop. But Taichi didn't, and Katsuro found he no longer cared. He just wanted to get back and get this damn mission over.

The cobblestones were treacherous under their feet, teetering suddenly and threatening to topple you over into the flooded drains.

Hood down, Katsuro focused on the road under his feet. Water poured in long streams off the front. The only sounds were the slogging of feet and the occasional rupture of fabric followed by a splash of additional water, when a sudden angry yell went up beside them.

Far up under one awning, almost at the steps of what must have been his home, sat an old man with a table full of wares. Water was now gushing from the tear Taichi made in his awning. But Taichi's surprise turned immediately to anger.

"What are you doing hiding under there old man?!" Taichi snapped, stepping under the big awning and looming over the old man. "Nobody wants your stuff on a day like this!" Taichi gave the table top a shove, and trinkets tumbled into the rain.

An image of Taichi standing over Sakura in the alley, sneering into her face, flashed into Katsuro's mind.

Something inside snapped.

"Stop it now," Katsuro roared. He reached under the awning with a strength far outweighed Taichi's bulk, grabbed his shoulder, spun him around and fisted the front of his cloak.

"No more," he growled into up Taichi's face. The heat of the kyuubi moved with him. His voice dropped a notch, intoned with a deeper, unearthly timbre. "Pick this up. Fix his table." Red eyeshine flashed in his eyes. "Do it. Now."

Taichi stepped back from Katsuro a different person. His eyes were wide, his face was slack and he was compliant. He scrambled to scoop up the goods then retreated back out into the rain with the brothers. He huddled with them, whispering quietly and shooting nervous glances the strange boy.

Katsuro turned to apologize to the old man. He stepped forward, ducking under the awning, but he froze at the sight of a familiar tattered straw hat.

It was all there, as if time hadn't passed. The table covered with jewelry. The ragged awning covering the doorstep. The old man tipped back in his chair. And that damned hat.

Katsuro couldn't believe it. This was the town he had stopped in with Sakura. This was the old man who had that necklace….

It looked so different now. In his memory it was a colorful place, a festival day with children and food and Sakura. But the rain had washed it away. The town was grey and empty. Shutters were closed on the tumbledown houses. And there was no more laughter. Just the drumming of rain on the awning.

It didn't even look like there was a soul here now…except for the old man.

Katsuro caught those beady black eyes watching him through the holes in the brim of the straw hat.

He didn't want his identity to be discovered, though he seriously doubted the old man would even remember him. So he stepped forward to apologize and pay for the damages.

Katsuro's eyes swept the table. He couldn't stop himself from looking. But what he was looking for wasn't among the necklaces and amulets and trinkets.

He knew it wouldn't be.

Katsuro withdrew the wad of folded up bills from his pocket, holding back enough to make it home. Still more than enough to buy a new awning, he thought. Hood shading his face, Katsuro held the money out over the table.

"Our apologies for the trouble. Please accept this as payment for the damage we caused."

A rusty old voice rumbled to life. "So, I see you've got your money now."

Katsuro looked up suddenly, the money still unclaimed in his extended palm. Recognition sparked in the old man's leathery features.

"Yeah," Katsuro admitted, laughing quietly. The old man _did_ remember. He should have known.

On that happy summer day he had teased Katsuro, asking how he could get such a pretty girl with no money. Katsuro remembered that he'd swelled with pride at the thought.

A knobby hand scooped out the bills. "Don't see your girl though." He slid the money to a hidden compartment beneath the table.

"No," Katsuro said slowly, trying to keep the regret out of his voice. "Again, sorry about the awning."

"Eh, your money will more than fix it," he said, straightening. "Anything catch your eye this time? It's on the house!" He waved a leathery arm out over the table, and looked knowingly up at Katsuro.

Katsuro laughed and shook his head. That damn hat routine again. He had watched Katsuro scan the table.

But Katsuro wouldn't confess to what he was looking for. Because it didn't matter — it was already gone.

"Try to stay dry," Katsuro said wryly and turned back to the rain.

"Hey," the man called out. He pulled something from under the table then held out a clutched hand. A black cord dangled down.

Katsuro ducked back in for a better look.

"Matched her eyes," the old man said, bristling. "Didn't seem right to sell it to another." He shook his fist. "Take it!"

Katsuro held out his hand with uncertainty. A rectangular green pendant dropped into his open palm.

His breath caught in his throat.

Slowly Katsuro lifted the black cord. The necklace — _her_ necklace – swung in front of his face. It was just as he'd remembered it.

Greens fused together and white flashed across the surface. Even in the dim light, the stone seemed to glow. The color refused to be drained.

"Th-thanks," Katsuro breathed.

The old man grumbled something as he tipped his chair back. Still marveling at the swinging stone, Katsuro only caught the tail end it. "…Better than that bunch your with now. More trouble than they're worth."

He adjusted the brim of his hat. "Sorry about your girl," he said dryly. "But you've got your money now right?"

Katsuro's hand closed around the necklace. The corner of his mouth tugged downward. "Yeah, well…." He couldn't argue.

But the old man just laughed. "Well, that's always the way it is. Can't have it all."

Katsuro clutched his fist to his chest. He still couldn't believe it. The necklace belonged to him now. He was touched more deeply than he could ever hope to express.

"Thanks," he said earnestly. "Thanks a lot."

But the old man wasn't interested. He waved Katsuro off unceremoniously.

Katsuro ducked out into the rain again. His three teammates immediately set off, anxious to put some distance between them.

Katsuro was glad to lag behind. He looked again at the road, amazed at the change. But the stone in his hand was a connection to her. He opened his fingers to admire it, glinting and green in his palm.

It was his now. And it was something of hers that he never had to give up.

He slipped his hands up under the hood and dropped the necklace over his head. It's cool weight swung back and forth against his chest as he walked. He made his way up the rain-slicked road, his previous troubles with his team forgotten.

* * *

Late that night, Katsuro fell tiredly against the base of a tree. He propped up his knees, hoping to get a few hours sleep before dawn. No fire tonight, even though they'd out-walked the rain and the night time air was sharply colder.

He was fine, and he couldn't bring himself to care about his three teammates squashed together several trees away. They had been conspicuously quiet on since they left the town. But at least they were compliant. So Katsuro was sure it was because they were nervous about his power. He hadn't intended to keep them in line that way. But now he saw how foolish he'd been to try to connect with them. To even imagine they would be some sort of teammates….

He reached into the front of his cloak and pulled out the pendant, still warm from being close to his body.

No, he'd known only one teammate. And wherever she was now, she was still depending on him….

He breathed deeply at the thought of her, a luxury he hadn't allowed himself in months, and the feeling of a real, tangible connection at his fingertips.

He held the jade up in the frosty moonlight. Deep greens fused with light and a soft white streaked over the surface. It ached in his chest how much it looked like her eyes. With the clouds reflected in them, just like that day on the hillside. But that was so long ago.

He dropped the necklace back into the front of his shirt. The cool jade slipped right into place against the top of his chest, like it had always been there.

Katsuro leaned his head against the tree and watched the cold, mist-softened moon. He wondered what she was doing now. Down in warm, leafy Konoha…. Probably checking up on patients in the hospital. He could just imagine her, smiling in a softly lit window, encouraging someone in a bed, checking on their last medications before turning out the light. She was happy, doing what she loved. And she was safe.

He'd do whatever Itachi said to make sure she stayed that way.

His hand went to his chest and brushed the stone through the fabric. His one connection to her in the world. Tomorrow they'd be in camp. Then he'd be off again on another assignment, taking him through more battle-plagued territories to another Akatsuki member with horrifying powers.

It was so nice to think of her, living happily, protected within those walls, where the grim realities of his life would never touch her. He laid his head back against the tree, hand still at his chest.

* * *

Almost as soon as her boot crunched on the pine needles, she knew they weren't alone. The pale moonlight sifted down through the canopy, illuminating marks on the trees, gouges in the bark—

Something rustled far ahead in the shadowed trees. Sakura held up her hand for them to stop. Without a sound, she drew her kunai out. Though she couldn't hear them, she knew Sasuke and Sai were doing the same behind her.

They walked slowly, noiselessly through the woods. Sakura saw a foot jutting out comfortably from beyond a dark tree trunk. She stopped, flashed two fingers at the tree, then crept towards it. Sasuke and Sai spread into a standard watch formation, keeping their blades drawn and their backs to her, maintaining a radius of safety while she investigated.

Sakura eased forward until her hand was against the wet bark. A black boot poked out of a long black cloak. The leg was tipped to the side. Either the guy was fast asleep or he was….

Sakura kept her kunai high, ready to aim for the neck if she was wrong, and leaned carefully around the tree.

She saw the sword handle first, hovering in mid air, and followed the blade to its natural conclusion where it was embedded nearly to the hilt in the hooded nin's forehead. Sakura let out the slow breath she'd held in her lungs. She cupped her hand and waved for Sasuke and Sai, alerting them that this one was no longer a threat.

Sakura looked over everything, replaying the man's final moments. This nin never had a chance. He was ambushed from above while he was hunkered down, probably scanning the ground for enemies. His other leg was still bent beneath him. The attacker used his downward momentum to drive the blade right through the man's skull. No small feat, she thought. His forehead had caved in, but his eyes were frozen open. His jaw hung open in a lifeless scream, and dripped with blood that had pooled there from the wound.

Sakura touched the handle. The sword was lodged too deeply to be removed. The swordsman had either been too young and careless…or it was a calling card from the village known for their blades. The Mist.

She looked suspiciously up at the moonlight through the trees. A fine mist softened the light. They might still be around—

"There's more," Sasuke said quietly pointing to the forest ahead. More bodies. Then it was clear there would be no more hidden nins here. They'd done what they came to do.

The team regrouped and crept toward the tangle of limbs flickering into view in the pools of cold blue light. Blades slashed the trees. Shurikens were buried in the bark. Beyond them looked to be the edge of a ravine. Whoever did this had herded these nins here to be butchered. She'd heard legends of the Bloody Mist. And it looked like they were living up to that name—

A moan came from mass of bodies. Sakura immediately stepped forward.

"Sakura," Sasuke said warningly, "You can't. We're not here to—"

She shot him a hard look and stepped over bodies turned towards the sound.

Beside one corpse, a headband reflected light. Sakura stooped to get a closer look. An open ended arrow was stamped into the metal plate. They were from the Waterfalls, a small hidden village in a neighboring territory.

"Help— Help me—"

Sakura had a hard time finding him. The body of a teammate had pinned his legs down. Sakura stepped over the corpse to find a shinobi, not much older than herself. Blood, his own and others, slicked his clothes and spattered across his pale, round face.

A laceration near an artery had him bleeding out. It was sheer dumb luck that he had lived even this long. But he was dying. She didn't need to read his chakra to tell. She could see it in his blue lips, hear it in the rattle of his wheezing breaths.

"Thank you…thank you," he rasped.

But Sakura didn't drop to heal him. Not right away. Instead she watched him, while his life slipped away with each exhale, as if she was deciding his fate.

"A-Are you from the relief team? Because I was so afraid—" Big tears pooled. His voice turned to a soft mewling. "I know I shouldn't be, but I just didn't want to die alone…out here…so far from home…."

Sakura shut her eyes. _Just this once._ She dropped to her knees beside him, hand already glowing. She ignore Sasuke's irritated sigh that carried over the dead bodies around her.

Reaching into the split of meaty flesh at the base of his neck, Sakura wedged her fingers right up against the biggest artery. It shot another spurt at the pressure, but she held firm and let the chakra do its work, mending the cells and staunching the blood.

Sakura watched the color come back into his face as she worked. Always a good sign.

"When was the relief squad supposed to come?" The hard lines of her face were lit by the soft glow of chakra

"Dusk," he said quietly.

"And when was the attack?"

"Morning."

Sakura set her mouth into a grim line.

She finished, injecting his chakra with a good dose of her own to jumpstart his healing. It should last him about a day and a half.

"Did you see who attacked you," she asked quietly, already knowing the answer.

"Mist," the nin said, struggling to sit up.

Sakura pushed him back down firmly. "Stay here. Rest till dawn. You'll have an days worth of strength left. Use it to get yourself to shelter. Safety. Something." He laid back with a deep breath, to tired not to obey. "Your other teammates….they're not coming. You're on your own now. But you'll live."

Before standing, she moved to roll his teammate's body off his legs. She reached under the shoulder, but her fingers sunk into blood and flesh. There were deep cavities where a chest should have been.

"Are…are you a medic," the man slurred.

"No," Sakura said, voice flat and emotionless. She stood and wiped the blood and bits of soft tissue off, leaving two long smears on the side of her overskirt. "I'm just another shinobi."

Sasuke watched her approach, leaving the wounded man behind. There was a challenge in her eyes, as if she had proved her point.

"Mist nins. Struck at dawn." She walked past him without stopping. "Took out the back-up squad too."

Sasuke's face softened. He conceded. She'd been right. "Let's go," he said quietly.

* * *

**Author's Notes**

Sorry for the long gap between updates. But thanks so much for sticking with the story! All the pms and reviews and notes have meant so much. I'm sorry if I didn't get back to everyone, but please know I read every review/note. They've really kept me going!

Also, I thought I'd do another steamy one-shot when I hit the 1,000 mark on reviews. So it's not a call for more reviews (though I always love hearing everyone's thoughts!), just my way of saying thank you! How about…Menma/Saku with a Naru/Saku ending? Sound good? ;)

And I'll be posting the first chapter of a new NS fic very soon, so watch for that too!

Please read and review. And there are spoilers and extra notes at the website. Plus a small omitted scene from the old man's pov after he gives Katsuro the necklace as well. So, enjoy!

**Chapter Notes**

• So, this chapter deals with Katsuro's changing ideas. He sees the world around him in a certain way. And he is very satisfied that he knows everything that's going on. Even in his relationship with Sakura, something he cherishes above everything else, he's always had the upper hand, because he knew about his disguise when she didn't. This chapter is about his beliefs, and how those are being chipped away. Some are exposed in this chapter, while some beliefs will be shattered in next ones.

• Washed Away - The title comes from the colors being washed away at the jewelry stand. But it's not so bleak as all that. It's more about some things being washed away by the trials he faces and will face, and other things having staying power in his life.

• Captain and Katsuro drinking sake — a sign of hospitality is to fill it to overflowing. But it's never meant to be drunk like a shot, as they do in this story. They're getting drunk. So the captain downing it in one gulp is a representation of that.

• _"The Big Boss wants it." Katsuro smiled at the funny Rain habit of making nicknames._ — So, in the manga, they call Yahiko 'Pain' and Konan 'The Angel.' Weird, distancing terms for their leaders. So I decided that maybe it was a cultural thing for Rain, that a sign of respect is to have a nickname.

• The Rain country is modeled off a land I once read about, a high mountain town in Japan that had only four or five passes in and out. So it was very safe from outsiders. And very treacherous for attackers. And this works with Jiraiya's description of Rain being very hard to sneak into.

• Had to give a brief history of Rain, to justify why the soldiers would want to fight so hard to restore it. And give some backstory to Pain. Also based the old Rain village on some of the Chinese water towns like Hongcun or Huangyao. Gorgeous canal-based towns. The history with the Salamander is loosely based on the manga — tweaked some details to fit better with this story.

• _But Katsuro didn't think anyone could wield so much power they could move mountains or stop rivers._ — yeah, just a play on Katsuro's own hidden power

• _A sprinkling rain fell like a curtain from the thin cloud-cover overhead. Yet the full, steel-grey clouds still loomed in the distance._ — The rain is part of the Rain country's defense mechanism, as in the manga. So, yeah, Katsuro is right to feel weird about it, like someone is watching him.

• Taichi, Joro and Koro — Katsuro needs a team, because he needs grounded work to parallel Sakura's. (Just like Sakura investing her time with Sasuke, Katsuro is investing his time with his group and in being a better leader. This will help is character in the future.)

• "_Taichi knows the lands beyond the Earth and Wind countries better than anyone else."_ — The Naruto world map is very vague. But apparently there are lots of territories out there. So that's what I'm going with.

• _As Taichi told it, he'd gotten a tip on a big spender, a legendary sucker, who was going to be his favorite gambling house the next night._ — Tsunade of course!

• "_Itachi has been bragging about you." Deidara smiled conspiratorially. "Says you are quite brave. Powerful. You might even one day join our organization."_ — this is all a lie, because Deidara and Itachi hate each other. But Deidara is pointing out the obvious, why would Itachi keep Katsuro around if there was nothing in it for him. And it plants the idea in Katsuro's head for later discussions.

• Katsuro with the necklace — bet you thought it was going to end up with Sakura, didn't you? :) Nope, it will belong to Katsuro.

• Sakura's part is particularly graphic (though not gratuitously so), because I wanted it to be a big contrast to the world Katsuro is imagining her in. Sakura is dealing with the nasty real-world stuff of shinobi life.

• _But Sakura didn't drop to heal him. Not right away. Instead she watched him, while his life slipped away with each exhale, as if she was deciding his fate._ — She's not being cruel. She's being more realistic than she is in the manga. She doesn't jump right down to give up her chakra and potentially expose her own group to harm. She realizes that she will gain info from keeping him alive. And then when he begins to cry about being dying far from home, Sakura feels sorry for him. Which she wishes she didn't feel, because she'd like to be an emotionless shinobi. But she's not! ;)

• "Your other teammates….they're not coming. You're on your own now. But you'll live." — This reflects her feelings after surviving the apparent abandonment of her own team, then surviving Katsuro's apparent betrayal. She knows this kid can survive too, if he wants to.


	35. Stolen Assets

**35 - Stolen Assets**

_We cannot tell now,_

_But let us try a small test:_

_If we both survive,_

_Will it be I who forget_

_Or you who fail to visit?_

— _Anonymous, love poem from a Heian-era Japanese courtesan_

* * *

Sakura knew Tsunade was locked in a closed-door meeting. That was precisely why she chose this day to deliver her mission scrolls. She'd just leave them with Shizune and be on her way. That way, it wouldn't look like she was avoiding anyone….

Outside the office, Shizune smiled at Sakura's approach. Sakura handed her the passel of scrolls, sure her plan would work, but Shizune waved her off and opened the door instead, ushering Sakura inside. Sakura grimaced, but she had to comply.

"They're just wrapping up," Shizune assured, misunderstanding Sakura's look.

"Oh. Uh, good," Sakura said resignedly. She stepped inside and leaned against the back wall, trying to make herself inconspicuous.

A few of the men turned back, acknowledging her. But the rest of the shabbily dressed men were too involved with pressing their own causes to notice the addition.

The room was filled with representatives of the Fire Country, men who came from the towns and burgs and dusty intersections of the most far-flung corners of their country. They were all concerned, had all heard rumors or seen shinobi moving silently through their lands, slipping out to fortify the borders. And they wanted all answers.

Tsunade's sat at her desk, eyebrows pinched together in anger. She was listening to the complaints of a stocky man in well-worn robes that Konoha's nins were stealing from their food stores.

Sakura felt Tsunade's indignation — no self-respecting _Konoha_ shinobi would ever steal from his own countrymen.

But watching Tsunade's valiant display of patience and restraint, Sakura wondered again if there was more to the story.

The Hokage had been pouring over every scrap of information lately, including mission scrolls. Just the fact that she was giving these men, some of them no more than farmers, a chunk of her afternoon was testament to that.

Tsunade leaned forward on her elbows suddenly and gave the man in front of her desk a long, hard look. "And you _know_ that it's Konoha nins? You've seen them, with you're own eyes, and can give me a description? Of any kind?"

The man's round cheeks went red. His hands disappeared into the sleeves of his old robe. He stumbled over a confession that no, he hadn't actually laid eyes on the person. Just heard a rumor.

Tsunade rolled her eyes and bit back an obviously scathing remark. Sakura thought she was exercising much more self-control than she would have if it were a room full of shinobis

The Hokage stood and raised her hand. The muttering men quieted. "Thank you, gentlemen, for making the journey into Konoha. Hopefully it has allayed some of your fears." There was a low rumble of dissent, but she spoke over it. "I will look over the reports closely. If you have more issues, send them by messenger—" The men closed in around her desk before she'd finished speaking, each trying to snag her attention.

Sakura thought this was the best time to drop off her own mission scrolls, then get out. She quick-stepped around the slower moving civilians, aiming for back edge of the desk where she knew the mission basket sat.

"Sakura," Tsunade said over the bustle. "A word, please."

Caught, Sakura simply bowed and stepped back to the edge of the curving room to wait until the last man left.

Shizune must have been standing outside, counting them as they went, because as soon as the last one was out – the stocky one who was dallying over a few more unsolved petty crimes — she stepped inside, locked the door and sagged against it.

No one spoke into the sudden silence. Tsunade sank down in her chair. Finally, rubbing a hand over her forehead, she waved for Sakura's scrolls.

"Thank you," she said quietly and flipped through the documents. Sakura knew she was cataloging the information in order of importance to go over later. Not for the first time was Sakura impressed that Tsunade could keep it all together, the running of a city _and_ a country. But somehow she did.

Sakura hoped she might still be able to escape. "Tsunade-sama, if there aren't questions about any of the scrolls, then I'll just be going—"

"Sakura," Tsunade said, sitting back from her desk and starting to unwind, "I've missed seeing you on Fridays." Tsunade's amber gaze settled squarely on her. "You aren't delivering the hospital scrolls anymore?"

Sakura cringed. She was caught. Tsunade knew she dropped out of shift rotation at the hospital. "I've, uh, been with Team 7 lately. You know…missions, training…."

Even as she said it, Sakura knew her answer sounded like the weak excuse that it was. She had been avoiding Tsunade, the hospital, all of it, just so she wouldn't have to answer questions.

Tsunade looked as if she saw right through her. "Sakura, I noticed your name was not on the med-nin roster. And I was wondering if there was a reason…."

Sakura sighed. Shizune excused herself from the office, which didn't make Sakura feel any less trapped than she already was.

Rubbing her hand across her neck, Sakura searched for the words to explain how she felt, even though she herself wasn't completely sure.

"I've just been busy with my team. I guess that would be the best way to put it…."

How else could she put it? Say that the thought of returning to medic work hung over her like an execution? That she no longer wanted to mend wounds and babysit the injured…. That she wanted to draw blood and make others feel pain for a change.

Sakura felt terrible for turning her back on the skills she trained so long and hard at. And Tsunade was bound to be disappointed, which made her feel even worse. But she couldn't go back. The thought of spending another shift in that hospital was like choking off her air.

So she'd buried herself in her missions and training until she figured it all out. Her team had found some common ground and was making great strides. But for Sakura, Team 7's success had come at a cost. She'd abandoned her medical career. And she couldn't say whether she'd ever go back.

And she didn't know how to tell her mentor who had always believed in her, that she no longer believed in herself.

"Sakura, you are the finest medic I've ever met," Tsunade said and Sakura dropped her gaze to the floor. "And it's been my pleasure to watch you grow as a student. Your chakra control is a thing of beauty. What others work so hard to coax out, you do just on instinct. It's a rare gift—"

Sakura didn't look up. She couldn't bear to hear anymore. And somehow, Tsunade understood.

"But I know how you feel. I've been where you are," she said quietly, then stood and turned to look out the picture window behind her desk. "Sometimes when you lose someone, it takes a while to get over it."

Sakura looked up in confusion, but Tsunade's thoughts were far away. The blue light of the Konoha reflected on her face, casting shadows in the fine lines at the corners of her eyes and mouth and making her years show in her face.

"There was a time…." Tsunade bit her bottom lip, holding in some long-buried memory, but she cleared her throat and continued. "There was a time when just the smell of a med-kit would make me vomit. And the sight of blood—" She shuddered, then breathed a humorless laugh. "Well, let's just say I stayed away from it — from healing, from shinobi life, even from this _village_ —for a very long time. And it took half the village being destroyed for me to wake up and come back."

Sakura blinked, remembering Tsunade's return, and how her strength helped resurrect the village after the death of the Sandaime. She didn't realize Tsunade was resurrecting herself as well.

"I understand, Sakura. I really do," Tsunade said, turning back to her. "Take some time. Stay with your team. But don't wait too long. Being a med-nin, a _healer_, is who you are. And it'll catch up with you eventually, no matter how hard you run from it."

Sakura didn't know what to say. It didn't make her feel better, not completely, but it was a relief.

"Stay with them. For now," Tsunade said, kindness in her voice. "I won't add your name back to the medic roster."

Still in disbelief, Sakura dipped her head for an unsteady bow. "Thank you Tsunade-sama," she said, closing her eyes.

If her medic life was a like a sentence, then she'd been given a pardon. "Thank you," she breathed.

* * *

A flash of green eyes and a tip of a chin in the right direction was all that needed for communication between Team 7 these days. Following the choppy pink braid in front of him through the crowd of shinobis on the ceremonial platform, Sasuke silently acknowledged the changes they'd undergone. But he wasn't the only one who'd noticed.

Shinobis of all rank and file stepped back as Sakura made her way through the crowd. The younger ones, the ones who'd come through academy in the years directly after theirs, openly watched her. Fear, respect and even jealousy mingled on their faces. Their own classmates nodded with the respect that only came from years of close work. And even some of the older nins broke from their seen-it-all stances to spare a nod for her. Sasuke noted that a few let their eyes rest on her a little too long. He'd remember them.

But Sakura didn't seem to be aware of any of it. Head back, long pink hair in its customary braid, shoulders squared, she walked to the front of the gathering of shinobis waiting for Tsunade's mission assignments and stopped. She nodded once to Kakashi, who stood at the side with the other instructors and team leaders, then turned her head expectantly, waiting for him to step beside her.

Tendrils of hair that had escaped her braid drifted over her shoulder in the spring breeze. Her green eyes searched his face, subtly looking for any unspoken communication that something might be amiss.

More than anyone here, she was attuned to him, watching him, somehow knowing he hated the whispers that always followed him in crowds like this. Even though he'd never told her.

She was protective of him. Of both he and Sai. Not because they needed it, but because they were a team.

Sasuke squared his shoulders and tipped his head in the barest of nods to her. Everything was fine.

Satisfied, she glanced at Sai who had just stepped up to flank her other side. He nodded too. Only then did she let her hand settle on her kunai while they waited for Tsunade.

They weren't often all called together, but when they were, it was a bit of a show. Sasuke's hand went to the handle of his katana, feeling comforted by the weight in his grip. He was one of the few sword-wielders in the village, the last Uchiha and, he boasted inwardly, on the most powerful team from their year.

And of the few teams that were more powerful in the rest of the village's shinobi corp, which was only through their use of synchronized jutsus, he was pretty sure they could take them too. Sakura was their secret weapon. Not only was she ferocious and determined and could turn whole swaths of earth into a pulp, she was a medic. When one of their team went down, she could heal them and they'd be back up again. Not so for other teams. Sakura added the asset of endurance.

From the line of instructors and genin team leaders, Kakashi beckoned to Sakura. As she left, the whispered voices to the side of him caught his ear. Especially when he heard a breathy, "That's her! Haruno Sakura!"

Sasuke fixed his gaze high, but shifted his feet, turning his body subtly toward the speakers. A single glance down showed a team of genin standing nearby, huddled together in discussion. They were a good head shorter than the rest of the mingling shinobi around them. And they were too young or too stupid to realize that the man within grabbing distance of the first one's neck was her teammate.

Sasuke slanted another glance down at them. They also had no idea they were being watched. Two boys and a girl. Sasuke had a vague memory that this was Kakashi's new team.

He adjusted his grip on his katana and wondered how Kakashi could stand taking on a team. Just keeping them alive would be job enough, let alone training them to be shinobi.

"I heard she was kidnapped and fought her way back, through a ninja army…single-handedly," one boy gushed.

"No you idiot," the other boy snapped. "She's like a doctor or something. I heard she cut off a guy's arm and reattached it, just so she could cut it off again!"

The girl stopped their argument. "Not so loud! Her other teammates are probably around her somewhere—"

It was too much to resist. Sasuke turned his full thunderous glare down at them.

They jumped then shrunk back, realizing in unison that this just might be the famous Uchiha, the one they'd heard could kill people with his eyes…..

Guessing what rumors they'd heard by the way their eyes were locked to his in sheer panic, Sasuke thought he'd really give them a scare.

The faintest red spiraled slowly around his irises. There was no power in it, so they were in no danger. Except of being terrified—

The kids were horrified…and mesmerized. The girl even slapped a hand over her face but still peeped through her fingers. Sasuke remembered being that age. He knew they were scared, but he also knew they really wanted to see it—

A soft hand curled over his shoulder. "Kakashi says to stop terrorizing his team," Sakura said with a smile in her voice. He turned to see her eyes laughing and couldn't stop the corner of his mouth form curving into a rare grin at being caught. He nodded to Kakashi, who's eyes were wrinkled in a knowing smile.

Sakura stepped forward, shaking her head in laughing surprise at Sasuke. Even Sasuke didn't know why he did decided to tease those kids. Just felt like it. It felt…fun. He supposed they'd all changed, in ways they never expected—

"Hi guys," Sakura said around Sasuke to the team.

They collectively swooned. "Hi Ms…uh Haruno-san," they crowed, even daring a few glances up at her scary teammate.

Any other conversation was swept away with Tsunade's arrival on the platform. Each turned forward and dropped to one knee, understanding the gravity of the situation. Even the Kakashi's team had straightened up admirably.

Tsunade gave a stirring speech about about the challenges they faced and how important their actions were. But the anticipation of missions overrode Sasuke's listening. He always got jittery just about now, wrestling with his hope for a good mission…and memories of the searing anger at being left behind.

"In the coming weeks many of you will have to cross borders and travel to distant soils, all to keep this land safe. We ask that you do this without reserve, in loyalty and silence. And we pray to the gods that you make it safely home."

Tsunade unfurled her assignment scroll and began reading the mission rolls, beginning with the genin teams.

"….And a D-rank for Team Kakashi…."

Beside Sasuke, the kids whispered their cheers and pounded the ground with their fists in as big a celebration as they dared. Obviously, a D-rank mission was a move up for them, Sasuke thought with a silent laugh.

He refocused on the rolls, listening for their names as the ranks dwindled down.

But as Tsunade closed out the A ranks assignments, Sasuke's old fears crept in. They were going to being held back! Again! Probably some lame excuse the council had cooked up to keep them from going out, even though they had more than proved themselves on countless missions before—

"Lastly, Team Uchiha. That is all. S-ranks have already been assigned. Be safe out there—"

Sasuke couldn't believe what he was hearing. As if to reinforce it, the kids on Kakashi's team gasped audibly. He stared at the ground as he processed just what this meant for him. For all of them.

Beside him, Sakura was mouthing the words "yes, yes, yes," and pounding the pavement with her fist.

Tsunade finished speaking and all the shinobis stood in unison. Most grabbed their scrolls and launched immediately, but Sasuke just looked at his team in a bit of a daze.

Kakashi, on his way to retrieve his team, offered his congratulations. Sakura left to get their mission scroll, and Kakashi shot Sasuke a meaningful look.

"An A-Rank, huh…. You know what this means, right?" Kakashi stepped around Sasuke, patting him on the shoulder as he went by. "You've made it. They'll never be able to hold you back again."

Sasuke jerked his chin in a sharp nod, not trusting himself to speak.

Sakura returned to with the scroll and explained that they were to infiltrate the border of the wind country and track the movements of enemy nin spotted there, back to their base. Tsunade needed to determine their country of origin.

Sasuke looked around at his team. Sakura was beaming. Even Sai's expression usually reserved expression had warmed. They felt like a unit. Sasuke breathed deeply, chest swelling with pride. Real pride. He had made it. _They_ had.

* * *

That summer, the missions came at a fast clip for all the Konoha shinobis. They tracked enemy nins across borders, spied on their outposts and infiltrated their ranks when they could, all in hopes of gleaning some information about plans of attack.

And there were no illusions that the enemy wasn't doing the same to them.

Distrust was rampant. The only ones you could believe in were your own teammates. Tsunade made that abundantly clear in her reports. Shinobis were everywhere. From every country, large or small.

Even the hidden villages in the territories pulled together formidable shinobi units. Waterfall, Grass, Stone, Sound…. The list went on and on. The markings on headbands were dizzying. But they weren't the only threat.

Any clan that fancied themselves as warriors sent out patrols. Their biggest threat was that they were armed with weapons but with little training. A weapon in the wrong hands was the most dangerous kind.

And then there were hired guards, Thugs, strongmen and ex-soldiers who's loyalties followed the trail of coin, and could be easily bought off if you had more money than the last guy.

Sakura, Sasuke and Sai's missions primarily consisted of tracking nins from the five nations, with orders to kill if they were trapped. But more often than not that summer, they tangled with everyone else.

The halcyon years of their genin time with Kakashi at the helm were long gone. The world around them had changed.

They took turns sitting up at night to keep watch. An ambush early on by a clan of young men, most of them too nervous to even fight, taught them a valuable lesson without any bloodshed. If heavy-footed farm boys had snuck up on them, then anyone could.

They developed a code, hand signals and head tips and, for worst-case scenarios, a series of blinks indicating 'yes' or 'no' or 'run' in the event one of them was caught and bound.

Sakura kept detailed notes of which shinobi they'd encountered and where, as well as their state of dress, weaponry and well-being. Many of the smaller bands of nins didn't have adequate clothing or weapons, which spoke volumes about their countries.

Sakura, as well as all the Konoha nins, was operating under one directive: Find the ones who were preparing for war. Before they brought it to the Fire Nation's doorstep.

And countries that could not afford to feed their shinobis were not likely candidates.

Sakura knew there was evidence that Hidden Mist nins were behind the movements. And their overriding goal on all these missions was to find and track the Mist nins if they could find them. But their secondary goal was to monitor any squads from the other great nations, specifically those that might have formed alliances.

It was one of these missions that brought them close to the Sand's borders, tracking the rumor of a camp of rogues who had been stealing from a string of towns. The story didn't pan out. There had been thefts, but it had been in the early spring. The rogues were long gone.

Their team stayed, scouting around to see what else they could unearth. At the very least they could relay some up-to-date information on the formidable border of the Earth Country.

They fanned out, walking the crust of land that jutted out from the edge of the scrubby desert valley. Woodlands populated the top of the land, but where it broke off in great cliffs to the valley floor, the view was brown terrain as far as the eye could see. It terminated in an ominous hazy yellow horizon. Sand. Which was it's own defense system.

Sai's inked mice skittered in front of each of them, winding around the base of the wind-gnarled pine trees, watching for crouched figures in hiding. Black-winged birds flitted through the trees, scanning for black shapes on the tree limbs. But there were none to report back. They were alone. So the three shinobis spread out even further.

Sakura had gone quite a ways in solitude only when a tree limb creaked above her. Suddenly an animal was barreling straight down from the tree top, straight at her. She leapt back and watched as an insect-like human drop onto the path in a crouch. She grabbed for her kunai as it rose slowly, blocking her way. The creature had wild tufts of hair and round, white eyes that swiveled in its head. Its arms and legs folded out from its ragged black cloak like a grasshopper's, but seemed to be stripped of flesh. Sakura revised, now uncertain that it was even human.

Sai's mice shot back up the trail, darting around the creature and moving in one direction towards their master. But more arms shot out from under the creature's cloak, and it lunged like a spider, splattering all but one mouse under its elongated claws. Only the smallest one managed to slip through it's clawing, bony fingers and disappeared into the shadows to alert Sai.

The creature turned its face back to her now. A breeze blew back the shaggy hair, revealing a third goggling eye in its forehead. It crept toward her, teeth glistening in it's open clamp of a mouth like a row of senbon. Sakura eased back a step, trying to determine a weakness before it smashed her like those mice, when the creature kicked out a leg to ratchet its body around.

It had a hollow, knocking sound as it moved that was vaguely familiar. Sakura's mouth went dry. She'd heard this sound before. And it filled her with dread….

She rocked back onto her other foot just as the creature's other leg swung around. It hoisted itself suddenly from its waist to stand more like a human. Hunched, arms hanging limply from its sides, it watched her with those three rolling eyes.

"We're here." From the woods behind her, Sasuke's whisper carried through the air and Sakura dared a shallow breath.

"You are far from your lands, Leaf nins," a voice boomed. It seemed to come from all around, not just from where the creature stood.

Sakura cleared her throat and twisted their story to buy some time. "We are tracking rogues that crossed our borders—"

"There are no rogues here," the voice bellowed and two silver blades sprouted slowly from creatures hands, clicking as it grew longer.

The sound jogged her memory. Sakura gasped, realizing what she was looking at. The creature didn't notice. Its jaw dropped, the mouth full of senbon clicked forward into a firing position.

Sakura remembered puppets were a trademark of the Sand shinobi. She prayed this one wasn't Sasori.

"We are merely a patrol, sent to retrieve the rogues."

"Sakura," Sasuke hissed behind her. She knew he was anxious to make a move. But she had to be certain.

The creature hung in the air, unresponsive. Seconds ticked by. Sakura's palms began to sweat. Maybe she was wrong—

Suddenly, the tree came alive, the back of it melting off in a stream of sand. On a high limb a ribbon of sand spun around to reveal Kankuro, the Sand's puppet master. Lines of chakra shimmered from his hands to the puppet. He smiled smugly down at them.

Two other tongues of sand peeled off the back of the tree and spiraled to the ground. The first one revealing the blonde-haired fan wielder Sakura remembered as Temari. She snapped open her two huge metal fans, slipped into a fighting stance and waited orders to use them. She did not smile.

Which meant the third arm of sand contained…. _Gaara._

A few paces behind Temari, the sand spun to reveal the ferocious shinobi who had threatened to kill her a few years ago. But instead of posturing like his siblings, he kept his arms folded across his chest. He didn't move to step off the sand. Instead it rolled away from him like water and poured upwards into a gourd strapped to his back.

The teams sized each other up for a moment. It had been several years since they'd seen each other in Konoha when Gaara had nearly killed her in some kind of crazed attack. He looked a lot calmer than he did then. More human, less like a wild animal. All three sported jonin fatigues, proving that he'd managed to move up the shinobi ranks without killing any of his comrades. Which for him was an improvement.

Gaara watched Sakura with dark, unblinking eyes. Sakura thought she heard Sasuke growl behind her.

"I'll ask you a third time _Sakura Haruno of the Leaf_," Kankuro boomed, "what is your business here?"

Sakura put on her most diplomatic air. "We are tracking the report of rogues in this area. Under the inter-territorial treaty we are granted jurisdiction to collect known criminals—"

Kankuro laughed haughtily. "_We_ patrol this border, and there is no one here. Except you. So unless _you_ are engaging in criminal activity, then I suggest you go home."

He flicked his fingers, retracting the blades back into the puppet's hands. Another flick and the senbon clicked back into its head to look like teeth again. Then, dancing his fingers in a complicated ballet, Kankuro worked over the chakra threads so the puppet lurched forward suddenly, dropped to all fours and scrambled up the tree to stand next to its master.

It rattled and lurched in that same hollow sound that made Sakura shudder.

Kankuro didn't miss her moment of fear. "Does my Crow frighten you, Ha-ru-no." He wiggled his fingers and the puppet did a macabre dance beside him on the limb.

Sakura swallowed, trying to ignore the sound. "No," she said forcefully, even as her voice wavered. "It simply reminds me of another puppet."

Kankuro laughed at her. "There are no other puppets like mine! I made these. I'm the _master_! I'm the best in all of Sand which means the best in the world." He threw out his hands, making the puppet lurch in agreement.

Sakura was unfazed. "Sasori makes puppets like yours." She added dryly, "And they're much worse."

It was Kankuro's turn to gasp. "Sasori…. Sasori of the Red Sand?" The siblings exchanged serious glances. "I thought he was dead. No one's seen him in years."

Sakura shook her head. "He's in Akatsuki."

They all blinked as if this new information were a blow. "How long," Kankuro said narrowing his eyes. "How long have you Leaf known about Akatsuki? About Sasori?"

Anger flashed in Sakura eyes. "_The Leaf_ didn't know about Sasori until _I_ told them. What's it to you—"

"One of your own is in that group, you have reason to protect them. Withhold information—

Behind her, Sasuke exploded into rage. He stepped forward from the trees, inarticulate sounds coming from his throat, and though the Sand nins surely knew her two teammates were hidden somewhere nearby, they still jumped into a protective stance at the outburst. All except Gaara. He turned is weighted gaze on Sasuke instead.

Sakura threw out her arm to stop Sasuke and yelled back at Kankuro, "Itachi is no more a part of the Leaf than Sasori is of the Sand. They are traitors—"

"Is that why you're out here then, are you hunting Akatsuki?"

Sakura paused at the question. But she knew her answer to it. "We are always hunting the Akatsuki," she snarled.

Kankuro seemed relieved. He shook his head. "I knew the council was keeping secrets," he swore. "Those old men believe the Akatsuki are harmless, that nothing can strike us here—"

"Kankuro," Temari snapped at his obvious security breach.

"The Akatsuki are a threat to everyone," Sakura said emphatically. "They have no allegiances, no loyalties. They just want power, and they will do anything to get it."

Kankuro nodded, galvanized.

"There are rumors that certain _assets—" _Kankuro looked at Sasuke while Temari shrieked, "_Kankuro_!" "Certain _assets_ that have been…compromised. _Stolen._"

But once the secret was out, Temari turned her eyes to Sasuke as well. Sakura was at a loss to understand, and a glance back at Sasuke showed he was too.

"Kidnapped," Kankuro said urgently. Gaara said nothing.

Sasuke looked at Sakura, still unsure, but nodded once as if he understood.

"We will pass the information on to our Kage," Sakura said.

Kankuro looked like he might have said something else, but Temari shot him a look that promised pain, so Kankuro relented.

"And as we don't have a Kage…_yet_," Kankuro said instead, ignoring Temari and looking pointedly at Gaara, "we will pass the information on to our council. Hopefully that will help them see reason that we need stronger protection."

Sensing their encounter was at an end, Sakura was just trying to figure out a way to remove themselves without creating an international incident, when Gaara spoke.

"Sakura-san," he said, his voice so soft and measured it startled her. He held her in his gaze as if his words were of tremendous importance. "On behalf of Sunakagure, we bid you safe travels to Konohagakure."

Sakura's mouth was parted in surprise. He'd repeated the words she'd used when she defused his rage at the chunnin exams in Konoha. The same words.

She closed her lips and bowed deeply, and both parties took their leave.

* * *

Tsunade smiled when Sakura repeated the story two nights later, but Sakura thought it looked pained. Like she was hiding something.

"It seems you made an impression, changed him for the better," Tsunade said. Sakura shook her head not accepting the praise, and Tsunade continued. "There is a faction within the Sand that would like to see Gaara as Kage. It is small, but it is growing."

Sakura reflected on the changed Gaara she'd met. Calm and observant. In control. He carried himself like a Kage should. "I think," Sakura ventured, "that he might make a good one."

"I tend to agree," Tsunade said, surprising Sakura.

"But Tsunade-sama, what did he mean about stolen assets? And kidnapping? Is it something to do with Sasuke?"

Tsunade sighed deeply, as if the mere thought were a tremendous burden. "No Sakura…. I think I understand the asset he's talking about, but there is little we can do. It will not effect us—"

"But what about Sasuke," Sakura pushed, sure now this was what Tsunade was hiding. "They seemed to think he should know. Tsunade-sama, is he in some danger?"

Tsunade smiled, but it was pained. "Sasuke is fine. He has a unique ability, and that will always draw attention. But the asset Kankuro was referring to is not him."

Sakura's eyes went wide. "Then the asset is a _person_…not a weapon? But who would be—"

"Sakura, thank you for bringing me the information. If Gaara is to be their Kage, then we might have an alliance with them yet. This is a first step. Thank you."

Sakura bowed, knowing she was being dismissed. At the door Sakura turned to see Tsunade pull out a slim S-class scroll and place it on her desk. Tsunade looked as if she dreaded the task before her. Sakura chewed her lip. Was this news enough to warrant the launch an S-class mission? _Who_ in their village was that powerful, to be considered an _asset_…a _weapon_ worth stealing? Sakura had no answers. She quietly closed the door behind her.

* * *

The door quietly closed. Tsunade unrolled the slender scroll. She paused, staring at its creamy blankness. The feeling of dread she had kept at bay while Sakura was there threatened to overwhelm her.

Tsunade had heard the whispers as well. That jinchurikis were being hunted. And killed.

She suspected the Akatsuki was behind it. There were enough known members with a grudge against their home countries to make sense. But still…_killing_ jinchurikis…. Why? Is this what Itachi had done so long ago? Had they just been chasing a ghost all this time?

Tsunade pushed the thoughts from her mind, knowing this panic arose from mere rumors. There was no way of knowing if there was any truth behind them at all.

So much secrecy surrounded the jinchurikis themselves that she didn't think she'd ever know for sure until it was too late. No country would ever admit to having lost their jinchuriki. She knew that for a fact. After all, Konoha had gone and lost theirs all on their own.

No…she told herself, pushing back on the memory of her village's crushing mistake. He was stolen. And if he was stolen, then there was still hope he could be retrieved….

She flattened the scroll, and penned "Recovery Unit," before she paused again, thinking.

The news from the Sand was interesting. She knew opinion had changed in that country. Instead of hiding their jinchuriki, they were considering putting him out front. Letting him lead. It was a warning to the heads of the other countries, and it kept him from being stolen in the night, out from under the noses of his sleeping compatriots.

Maybe it would work. Keeping their identities secret certainly wasn't.

Finished writing, she re-rolled the scroll and performed the hand seals to clone it. One each for Kakashi, Asuma, Genma, Rado, Kurenai, Inoichi, Iruka, Shikaku, Guy.

From the top desk drawer, Tsunade retrieved another, much older scroll, capped with jade ends carved in the shape of frogs. She unrolled it, put her hand in the middle of a circle of writing, and thought about who she needed to summon.

In a cloud of smoke, a squat frog with a waist-coat and a long-stemmed pipe clamped between his lips popped into the center of the room. He stood on his haunches giving him more of a human appearance, puffed on his pipe and studied Tsunade, waiting.

"I need you to make a delivery," she said quietly.

The frog unclamped the pipe from his mouth and held it in a webbed foot. "Still no luck," he spoke, voice guttural and raspy. Smoke floated in lazy trails in the air above his head.

Tsunade shook her head. The frog took another slow drag off his pipe.

"I have a delivery I need you to make."

The frog hopped forward to her desk. "Same people?"

Tsunade nodded sadly.

The frog didn't comment. He opened his wide mouth and waited patiently as Tsunade tucked each scroll into the flappy pocket of skin at the side of his cheek. He closed his mouth, shifting the bulge until he was comfortable, replaced the pipe between his thin lips, then with a single nod he disappeared in a puff of smoke.

* * *

The floor beside his bed was cold under his bare feet. Alone again, Kakashi rubbed a hand down his tired face and stared at the scroll in his hand. Pipe smoke still hung in the air. He had come to associate the smell with bad news. That frog had never delivered anything else. And from the apologetic grimace on his little green face when he woke the jonin, the frog knew it too.

Kakashi rubbed the sleep away from his eyes and unrolled the scroll.

"Recovery Unit: We are running out of time. If we are to find him, it has to be soon. More assets have been targeted. And killed. Suspect Akatsuki, for unknown purpose. He is in grave danger…. "

* * *

Katsuro smiled as the horse nuzzled his hand, burrowing deeper in case it missed an apple piece. He gently scratched the side of its broad nose with the curl of his knuckles, then walked around to make sure the wagon yoke was fastened tight enough, dragging his hand down the horse's side as he went. The horse stamped indignantly at having finished its snack. Katsuro laughed and ducked away from the flicking tail, but he was out of apples. And really he had other things to do instead of feeding the horses his own food.

But they were sweet horses. Some old farmer's livelihood probably depended on them. But Katsuro had no idea where the men had stolen them from, and those thugs would tear Katsuro up if he even suggested taking them back to their original owners when they were finished with them. Whenever that would be….

So he gave them extra treats when he could. It was the only thing he could do. After all, it wasn't their fault. They didn't ask to be caught up in Itachi's plans.

Katsuro drew back the tarp on the wagon and inspected the load, making sure everything was strapped down. This one had dried meats, bolts of cloth and a barrel of apples. All of it bound for Rain, all of it stolen. And beneath the haul of goods was the real reason they were shipping things to Rain: the false bottom concealed a load of metal.

Even if the whole cart was emptied out by bandits or ruined by weather, that hidden shipment could still be driven to the edge of the Rain's inland ocean, and the men waiting there would accept it without a single question.

Satisfied with this load, Katsuro dipped his hand into the apple barrel, pulled out an apple, flipped it into the air and speared it on his kunai. He strolled back between the carts, cutting the apple into horse-sized chunks. He almost felt like whistling. He could do this all day—

But when he stepped out from between the horses, Itachi was waiting for him. His dark presence was like a cloud had passed over the sun. It threw Katsuro for a moment.

"I— I didn't think you'd be back from Rain so soon."

Itachi raised an eyebrow at the apple in his hand. Katsuro grimaced, caught stealing _and_ goofing around. The horse beside him, knowing he was next, stamped his feet and snorted into Katsuro's hair, ruffling it wildly with hot breath.

"As usual, you're making good use of your time," Itachi said with a slight sneer.

Katsuro might have scraped together an apology. But jabbing him about his past errors only stoked his rebellious streak. Katsuro schooled his discomfort into a stubbornly smooth face, and held out the cut apple pieces for the horse.

"I'm thinking of swapping out my team for these three," Katsuro said, the gleam of challenge in his eyes. "They'd make better shinobi. And my team would make excellent pack animals."

The horse nipped up the last piece. Katsuro rubbed the horse's snout and stared back at Itachi defiantly. Itachi knew the type of men he'd saddled him with as punishment after last summer: jackasses.

Itachi's lip quirked at Katsuro's little joke, and let the insolence slide. Apparently he had bigger fish to fry.

That was never good, Katsuro thought.

"I have had an interesting visit in Rain," Itachi began. Katsuro cut up more apple and held it out for the horse. "You're name came up quite a few times."

"I can imagine," Katsuro said quietly.

"Oh really?" Itachi said, in real surprise.

The horse leaned hard into Katsuro's chest looking for more treats. Katsuro rubbed it without really seeing it.

He'd been rehearsing his speech to Itachi for a few weeks now. Planning out just exactly how to tell him that he wanted out of the missions. He was sick of delivering scrolls to the Akatsuki. He was pretty sure they were on to him. This wasn't how he planned it, but now was as good a time as any.

"Your Akatsuki," Katsuro nodded at the red cloud Itachi's cloak, "are very interested in me. Thanks to Sasori, I bet. Every time I deliver a scroll, I have to dodge questions. _Pointed_ questions. About _me_." Katsuro shook his head at the persistent horse and finally cut off another slice of apple. "Even Deidara said I'm expected to join, because I'm your apprentice and all, but I think he's just trying to get a rise out of me."

Katsuro expected that Itachi would understand. After all, he'd always said Akatsuki were monsters. But he was complete caught off guard to find Itachi smiling back at him

"And what would you say to joining the Akatsuki?"

Katsuro's face went slack, but seeing Itachi was serious a red flush swept up his neck. "Hell no! Are you crazy! That's what I'm telling you. I don't want to deliver those scrolls anymore. I think we should stay _away_ from them!"

The horse whinnied at Katsuro's outburst, then decided to go for the other half of apple he held in his other hand. Katsuro shushed him, genuinely sorry for scaring it, and moved on to the last horse, feeding it the last few slices of apple.

"I'm surprised," Itachi began, but Katsuro cut him off.

"Well you shouldn't be. They're all cutthroats who would kill anyone to get what they wanted."

A whimsical smile played on Itachi's lips. "I won't argue with you there."

"And why would you actually want me to join them. After what I have—" Katsuro looked around hastily then grabbed his shirt front, "after what I have inside me, aren't they the type of people I need to stay away from? Haven't you always said that?!" The horse snickered at his rising voice and empty palm. Katsuro took a breath to calm down and turned to face Itachi.

"Listen, I've delivered Rain's scrolls to them, and each time, I've been sure they know something more about me. Now it's like I'm just waiting for one of them to kill me—"

"But it hasn't happened, has it," Itachi said as if speaking to a child.

Katsuro shot him a dark look. "No, but I'm done with it. I don't want anything to do with that group. They're nothing like us!"

Itachi laughed. Which was never a good sign.

"The Akatsuki are _exactly_ like us. They are dissidents from other countries and have sworn their allegiance to Rain in exchange for protection. They are bound by a truce. To be in Akatsuki, you can not hurt another member. So for you, it would be safer for inside, than out. Because if you join, they cannot touch you."

"I can take care of myself—" But the words sounded childish, even as he said them.

"You would be protected by Pain," Itachi continued. "And they fear him. Really the Akatsuki is the perfect hiding place for you."

This was crazy! There were a thousand reasons not to join them. "I'm your apprentice," Katsuro exclaimed. "And they know it. What makes you think they'd ever accept me?"

Itachi's voice was dead serious. "Because of that. You are _my_ apprentice. It has nothing to do with _you_ — they wouldn't dare cross _me_." He stepped back, his polite facade slipping back over him. "And if Pain vouched for you, then you would be untouchable to them."

"So you expect me to join the Akatsuki, looking like this?"

Itachi looked him up and down. "Yes, why not?"

"Sasori…."

"Yes, you mentioned him."

"I think he knows…about me. And I think he's been telling the other Akatsuki that there's something wrong with me. That I'm not growing the way I should. Because that's what the rest said. That I haven't changed a bit, and there must be something else about me, otherwise why would someone like you waste time on someone like me—"

Katsuro stopped suddenly as another reason just occurred to him. He shuddered. Itachi ignored him.

"Did Sasori say anything else?"

Katsuro frowned, thinking, then shook his head.

"Then he doesn't know anything," Itachi said with vicious pride. "But if you are generating interest, then it's past time—"

"Why would Sasori notice when no one else does—"

"Think, Katsuro! Because he's a puppet master! His specialty is knowing the human body, better than anyone else. Of course he'd notice!"

Katsuro turned to him, blinking as if a lingering suspicion had finally been confirmed. "So, I'm not growing then, am I?"

Itachi shrugged. But Katsuro sensed there was a deflection in his carelessness, and it fueled his anger. How could Itachi, who planned for everything, miss that hugely important detail?

"Why? If the jutsu is so great, so _perfect_, then why doesn't it fit?"

Exasperated, Itachi turned quickly. "It was a disguise with a time limit. It wasn't meant to last forever. And you've outlived the length of time I designed it for."

"Outlived?!"

"Outlasted," Itachi corrected, his voice flat. "It will need to be adjusted of course, before you—"

"Before I do what— _join them?!_"

The corner of Itachi's mouth twitched. He was loosing his patience. "Pain wishes to see you. And I suggest you consider his words very carefully."

"Pain can see me all he wants," Katsuro growled, "I'm still not going to—"

But Itachi produced a thin silver scroll and Katsuro fell silent, realizing what the scroll meant…and what was happening. Itachi and Pain had already spoken. Itachi had decided this was the best course. And once again, Katsuro only had the illusion of a choice.

Katsuro took the scroll with an angry grunt and flipped it open. It was an open invitation to the Rain village as a personal guest of Pain. Nothing more was written.

He'd never had a choice at all. Katsuro screwed up his face, ready to tell him just what he thought of the whole idea, when Itachi silenced him with his quiet voice.

"Pain knows about you. _And_ what's inside you."

Katsuro grew very still.

"Yes, I thought that might change your mind. He has always known. And he is the reason we have been able to stay hidden for so long. So if he invites you to his village, I think it would be wise for you to accept. Anything else would be disrespectful to the only other person who has helped keep you alive."

Katsuro held the scroll in his palm, feeling it's heavy cold weight and weighing his alternatives.

As if sensing they were finished, the last horse nuzzled down into the collar at the back of Katsuro's neck for some stray treats. It nibbled at the knotted cord it found there.

Deep beneath his fatigues, the pendant he had hidden there juddered across his bare chest.

Itachi was waiting for a answer, but all Katsuro saw in front of him in that moment was the green and white streaked stone. And he remembered why he was doing what he was doing. Why he went along with Itachi's plans. And who he had to protect.

He gently pushed the horse away and stepped out of the range of its curious mouth.

"I'll go," Katsuro said as he readjusted his collar, surreptitiously making sure the necklace wasn't showing. "But I won't make any promises."

"You won't have to," Itachi said. Katsuro didn't like the sound of that, but Itachi added, "No more Akatsuki scrolls, if that makes you feel better." It didn't. "Your team can run surveillance while we get the rest of these deliveries out to Rain."

Then Itachi swirled to leave. There would be no more discussion. Katsuro distractedly touched his sternum, fingering the pendant beneath the layers of clothes, and watched Itachi go. Behind him, the horses stamped expectantly for another apple.

* * *

Sakura, Sasuke and Sai spent the rest of spring trekking in an out of the Fire Country, just like every other Konoha team, tracking leads about Mist nins. And, just like every other team, finding hard evidence was nearly impossible. Lots of leads, whispers, rumors…but very little substance. More often than not, they discovered they were chasing bandits and vagabonds.

But the threat was real. They encountered enough foreign nins to know that tensions were high among the five nations. They were lucky enough and had not had to tangle with any shinobis, but they heard other Konoha shinobi had. The only nins Sakura saw watched them with the same suspicious glances that her team gave them. They surveyed each other warily, hands on weapons in unspoken threat, then each went their separate ways. That alone told her that their mission was important. Even if they never bagged a single Mist nin.

In the course of their travels, Sakura did worry she might run into Katsuro. The thought lingered in the back of her mind no matter how much she tried to shake it. But she had a feeling that he wouldn't be found if he didn't want to. Even Kakashi couldn't find them when she had been taken. And they weren't likely to bump into him in their investigations of road-side dango stands and tumbledown tea houses.

She also knew that where ever Katsuro was, Itachi wasn't far behind. And she didn't think Sasuke would be able to turn and walk away. Sasuke was growing more powerful everyday, but she didn't think he could take down Itachi. Not alone. Though she'd never tell him that.

Sasuke was finally breaking free of the chokehold that revenge had held on his life since he was a child. They had a powerful team, a lethal harmony, and she wasn't quite ready to let go of that hard-won victory by watching Itachi destroy Sasuke's life again. She knew one day Sasuke would seek him out and make Itachi pay for the crimes against his family, but she prayed that it was still a long way off. Until they'd all grown strong enough to take Itachi down together.

So just like Itachi for Sasuke, it was better if Katsuro stayed in her past. He couldn't hurt her there.

Sakura pushed the thoughts away and concentrated on her mission. The report said a trio of black-clad men had been frequenting a bar deep in one of the border territories and causing trouble. It wasn't the kind of things they normally handled, and looking at the scrubby farming town looming in front of them, she questioned the veracity of the report. But apparently the suspects been showing up in the evenings, brandishing kunai and even sporting actual shinobi headbands. Though the fact about that particular detail were sketchy. However, she supposed that was reason enough.

So here they were, staking out a "village" that looked to be nothing more than a collection of barns and lean-tos. Sakura pointed out what was the town's only dango stand, and her team beelined for it. They ordered several plates of food then sat at the outdoor tables to listen from behind mouthfuls of sticky dumplings, while the regular customers eyed them with suspicion.

No men materialized, and the only thing her team succeeded in doing was running off most of the patrons.

Sai paused his chewing to nod to an old man with an apron standing inside the kitchen. A customer who had just vacated the table two over from them now huddled next to the old man, whispered harshly and pointed at Sakura's hair.

Sakura cocked an eyebrow in question until Sasuke pointed to her shinobi headband. She nodded and tugged it out of her hair. Sasuke and Sai quietly pocketed theirs as well. Sasuke shrugged. He didn't care that they'd cleared the tables without trying to.

Distrust of shinobis in these far-flung towns was something they'd come to expect. The towns didn't want the nins there, even as they asked for their help. In their eyes, shinobis brought trouble. It didn't matter where they were from.

Sakura shook her head at how much things had changed in just a year. Places where they were once welcomed now closed their doors and pulled down their signs when they passed through. Sakura wiped her hands. It was no coincidence the street was emptying out. Word spread quickly. After all, that's how they heard about the three men.

Finished, Sasuke jerked his head to the stand of trees on the far side of town. They rose and relocated to the trees to wait out the men. If the report was to be believed, they'd be showing up anytime.

A few hours later, the day's last sunlight slanting through the trees, one of Sai's mice skittered up the trunk to where they stood. The men were coming. They spread out in the canopy, crouched and waited.

A half-hour later, they sauntered into the grey shadows of the trees.

Bulky and overweight, the men stopped at the base of the tree. Sakura bit a knuckle to keep herself from laughing. They were no more shinobi than that old man who ran the dango stand.

The spit, knocked into one another haphazardly and dusted the dirt from their shabby clothes, which, although dark, Sakura wouldn't have classified as black. She rolled her eyes and was ready to leave them to whatever harmless mischief they would obviously kick up in a sleepy town like this one, when Sasuke's observant gaze sharpened.

Sakura looked down and frowned as the biggest one pulled out three headbands from his pocket and passed two to his partners. They snickered, fastened them on their heads then flashed them admiringly at each other. Flopping empty rucksacks over their shoulders, they headed for town. It wasn't hard to guess that the men intended to steal probably whatever they could get a hold of.

Sasuke waved two fingers, signaling they needed to catch them. Silently as the wind, they leapt a few trees ahead, then dropped down in front of the impostor shinobis with barely a whisper as their feet hit the leafy ground. The men's faces went slack with horror, and they bolted in opposite directions. So much for them working as a team, Sakura thought with a laugh.

Sasuke flash-stepped in front of his man to stop him; Sai shot an inky snake from his paintbrush to coil around his suspect. But Sakura's man ducked behind a tree and ran before Sakura could belt the ground with an earth-rendering jab. She'd have to catch him on foot.

She chased him deeper into the woods, watching his shaggy head bob and weave through the trees. If there was ever a concern she'd lost sight of him, then his lumbering footsteps would have led the way. A light-footed shinobi he was not.

Sakura finally cornered him in a low clearing. He was hunched over, panting hard, when Sakura sauntered from the tree line.

"Alright, you've had you're fun. Now why don't you tell me—"

When Sakura was almost on him he spun around and loomed over her, a rudimentary blade flashing from his hand.

Sakura rocked back a step on instinct. A blade was still a blade. Even this idiot could kill with it if his aim was just right.

Sakura's hesitation bolstered him. "Yeah, that's right girlie. What are you gonna do now? Alone out here, without anyone to hear you scream—"

Sakura laughed. "Do you really think…." She shook her head. "I could stop you with one hand." She waved a hand as if to prove it. "I could end you with a _finger_." She wiggled her fingers beside her face.

The man laughed and looked her up and down leeringly. "I'd like to see you try."

Sakura's cheeks flamed with anger. "You just pick a finger," she taunted in a deadly growl.

Neither noticed Sasuke who had come to a stopped at the edge of the woods. Having just approached, he was about to step in and help her. But now he was curious. He had no doubts about Sakura's strength. He rubbed his jaw just remembering one of her punches. Then he smiled. This guy didn't know what he'd gotten himself into. Sasuke folded his arms and leaned against the tree to watch.

"Fine then, girlie." He tossed his blade from hand to hand and hunkered down for a fight. Sakura turned to the side and dropped into her stance, bending her knees and anchoring her feet to the ground. She raised her fists and waited. "You're a little snip of a thing with some awfully big talk. I'll think I'll take that little finger of yours and see how you—"

That was all Sakura needed to hear. "Pinky it is, then."

In blur of movement she swung her foot into a roundhouse kick and knocked the knife out of his hand. It sailed into a tree. While his slower reflexes were still following the track of the blade, Sakura delivered a chakra-fueled jab to the gut. He buckled forward with an "oof" and before he could even think about recovering, Sakura hooked him under the jaw with punch that sent him sprawling backwards into the leaves.

He flailed like a fish out of water trying to right himself, but Sakura calmly put a boot in his gut and walked over him. She squatted down beside him so her face hovered just over his.

"Now, which finger was it? The pinky?" She held up her smallest finger beside her face, and both watched as just the tip began to glow green. His features contorted with fear in the eerie green light. Sakura smiled and pressed her finger to his neck as she would a scalpel.

He began to squirm and tried to scream. Sakura pushed her finger deeper into the fat of his neck. "No one out her to hear you scream out here, isn't that right? Careful, don't want me to slip up and slice your vein. You'd bleed out before I could stand up." Trembling, he stilled himself. "Now, where did you get the headband."

"We found 'em. I swear," he gasped. "They aren't mine. It was in a cart we took from the mines!"

Sakura remembered there was wealthy clan a day's journey from here. They made their money in mining.

"You didn't steal them off someone? You didn't take them from their original owner?" Sakura pushed her hand hard against his neck.

"No! I swear it! We was unloading some items from a cart and the headbands was in it," he choked out the words "down in the back. You can have it! You can have everything— We didn't steal it off no ninjas! You've got to believe me!"

"Oh I believe you. And I will be taking the headband. But listen," she leaned in close and raised her hand so the green glow reflected in his overly wide eyes, "I've got me eye on you, and the rest of your gang. If I hear you are stealing again, I will hunt you down and show you what I can do with the rest of my fingers. And it won't be pretty." He nodded, blubbering.

Fingers in a wedge, Sakura jabbed a pressure point at the man's neck. It hit him like a switch. His arms jerked, then his head lolled to the side. Sakura grabbed his chin and turned him back to make sure he was asleep. Eyes rolled back into his head and mouth wide open meant that he was.

Satisfied with her work, Sakura pulled the headband off the man's head and stood up. It was only then that she noticed Sasuke standing at the tree behind her. His mouth curved up in a small smile. And there was a warmth in his eyes she'd not seen before.

Sakura ignored it, telling herself Sasuke was just teasing her. "So, did you have any luck with your man?"

"Yes," he said slowly, still watching her. "Although our methods were not nearly as…_entertaining_ as yours."

Sakura laughed it off. She came even with Sasuke and held out the headband. He pushed off the tree to take it.

"They look real enough." He held it up next to the others and inspected it as they walked back. Sai was busy painting roots and vines around the men. The inky stalks rose up out of the ground and fastened them in place.

"My guy's back there, passed out," Sakura said. Without stopping, Sai jerked his brush in the direction Sakura pointed. A black root swelled up under the leaves and slithered toward the clearing, looking like a black snake on the hunt.

They stopped back by the dango stand and informed the old man that their criminals had been caught and where they could be found. He was significantly nicer then, even offering them free food. They declined. The scroll didn't specify who to report to, but considering the speed at which the town cleared out at the sight of three shinobis earlier, the owner would get the message to the right person. What they did with the men was up to them.

Sakura, Sasuke and Sai wanted to move on, and left the town heading toward the mine to do some more investigating. They were working outside of their assignment, but they agreed that it would be better to find out what they could now, than lose several days asking for permission.

They were halfway into their journey when a two anbu agents swirled out onto a branch in front of them.

They offered no greeting, just a mission scroll for Sai. He read it through once, nodded, then turned back to his team. "I'm sorry. They need me for another mission." He hated to leave them.

Sakura and Sasuke waved away his guilt and wished him well. Sai left with the anbu in a swirl of leaves.

Sasuke turned to Sakura. "Do you want to keep going or…."

Sakura mulled it. She knew the danger level rose exponentially when you stripped away teammates. They all had learned the formulas in academy — how many teammates, how many weapons, how much chakra you needed to survive. Losing Sai, the death rate of the remaining teammates in a two-man team jumped from 20 percent to 60 percent.

But Sakura and Sasuke made a great combination, and were more powerful than most other shinobis she knew. Surely that must count for something in the mathematics of survival.

Besides, they were so close. They might be able to bring back some real evidence this time….

"Doesn't bother me," Sakura said cooly, shifting her weight to one side and hooking her thumb around her kunai. "There's not too much out there that the two of us couldn't handle."

Sasuke tipped his head. A slow smile touched his lips. "No I don't think there is."

That warm light returned to his eyes, and Sakura decided it was pride. It didn't matter what it was really, it was nice to see something other than anger etched into his face. The fact that he was smiling was a mark of how far he'd come. And of how much she'd improved. But there was no time for self-reflection now.

She flashed him a quick grin. "Well, let's go then!"

They traveled fast and made good time, arriving at the farthest edge of the clan lands by nightfall. They decided to make camp, then begin investigating the next morning. But before they could settle on a site, Sasuke detected a black shadow in the blue woodline. Then another.

He threw out a hand to bar Sakura, drew out his katana and stepped soundlessly towards the trees. Sakura waited when an acrid, burnt sulphur smell hit her nose. Someone had just extinguished a torch. A twig snapped to the left, then another, and Sakura jerked her head to it, focusing hard, trying to see what Sasuke could with his sharingan. She slipped out her kunai and turned to investigate—

But the sound was a distraction. Movement exploded in front of Sasuke. Arrows rained down from the treetops and blades sliced sideways through the clearing. The had walked into a trap. But Sasuke, being Sauske, dodged them all. He flipped and crouched and swung and Sakura could only see the trail of his shirt as he moved, glowing pale blue in the darkness. Then he was gone, and Sakura was alone in silent woods.

She crouched down, afraid to move or she might trigger another barrage. She waited, listening. The twig snapped again, and she recognized it for what it was — the setting of a mechanical bow. Any second another onslaught of arrows would rain down—

But before the second bow could be cocked, the resonating ting of a blade sliced through the trees, followed by a groan and the dull thud of a body falling to the ground. _Sasuke._ Though Sakura couldn't see him, she followed the trail of sounds and shadows through the woods. He flitted to each spot, disabling their weapons and felling their attackers. The rest of the men ran out into the clearing, before Sasuke could use the darkness of the woods against them too.

Sakura was waiting. "Stop right there," she bellowed at the assembly of men. She held out her kunai, ready to take them down, but they surprised her by raising their hands in submission. The metallic clashing continued from the trees. Someone was giving Sasuke a hard time. But the men didn't seem perturbed. Sakura yanked a small flashlight from her hip pack and shined it over the group.

Older men, roughly dressed with lots of battle wounds. They weren't shinobi. But they were fighters. Another man, bigger than the rest, limped from the woods. Sakura swung her flashlight onto his face, then stopped.

"I…I know you," Sakura said haltingly. But from where…?

He had a beard, which she didn't remember, but she knew that ragged scar that dug from his forehead to his cheek. And she remembered the eyepatch. Then it came to her: the festival.

She swung her light back at the rest of the squinting men. Yes, they were all there. This was the group of men guarding the wealthy clansmen. The ones who seemed like they were always ready for a fight.

Sasuke came from the woods just then, sliding his sword back into its sheath and dragging the last man with him. Sasuke dropped him at the feet of his friends who helped him to standing, and went to stand next to Sakura. Sakura shined the light into his eyes, not caring that he shielded his face from it, and inspected his face. He had a grotesque scar the puckered his cheek right below his eye. Someone had tried to gouge his eyes out and missed. Sakura cringed. Yes, she remembered him very well.

"We don't want no trouble with shinobis," the tall one with the eye patch grumbled. "Had enough of that. What do you want here? My master will have already sent out the dogs—"

"Your master," Sakura echoed. "The one from the trade meeting last spring? The clansmen who owned the mines?" All the pieces were falling into place.

"Aye, that's the one," the big man with the patch answered, "and what do you know about it?"

"I was there," Sakura said.

"What do ya mean you were there? As a guest?"

"No, as a guard," Sakura said flatly.

The men guffawed, that a girl nearly half there size was a guard. Even Sasuke had turned to look at her. But the big man raised his sizable hand for silence.

"You were the Leaf girl, weren't ya, the one that pretty politician was trying to make a meal out of."

Sakura was glad for the darkness at that moment. An embarrassed blush flooded her cheeks. She felt the weight of Sasuke's stare. But she pushed on.

"Yes, well, I figured it out—"

"He was tryin' to pass you off as another one of them. When you were just like us. Guards. Hired help."

Sakura didn't need her mistake rubbed in her face. She cleared throat. "We are tracking Mist nins, and apprehended three bandits with Kiri headbands. They said they stole them from a cart from this mine. Do you know anything about the nins or the burglaries?"

A few of the men swore. The big man folded his arms over his chest and stroked his beard.

"And you say you caught 'em?"

Sakura nodded. "Three men, wearing black. One a little bigger than the rest." The big man nodded. "They're three towns away, probably sitting in a jail cell by now."

"They didn't have anything else on them, did they?"

Sakura shook her head and pulled the headbands from her pocket. "Just these. Do you know how they would have wound up in your carts?"

The big man grunted in frustration. "They stole from us. Those Kiri nins, as you called 'em, took our bulk ore and some very high grade metal. Unique. Don't know what it does exactly, but it's supposed to be real special. It's what had your politician drooling all over us."

Sakura frowned but he continued.

"We knew he was no good and tried to get him to back off. Thought you might've picked up on it." Sakura remembered how they seemed to be always gripping their weapons when she walked by. Now she realized they weren't doing it at her, they were sending the warning to the politician. And he probably knew it too. Just another thing she was wrong about. She crumpled up the headbands and shoved them back into her bag.

"Well, we would like a word with your master. The clan head. Is he—"

"No girl, you're better off sending word through your leader and waiting for an invitation. He doesn't take kindly to strangers dropping in, especially ninjas caught on his lands. You can understand why."

Sakura sighed and glanced at Sasuke, but his face was a blank mask. They had at least found _something_ out. And Tsunade could apply directly to the clan head for more. Though she'd had no time to confer with Sasuke, she felt like this was the end of the road for them.

She bowed, surprising the men. "Thank you for the information. We apologize for any injuries or inconveniences we have caused you." Sasuke watched her, then followed her lead with a simple bow.

Flustered, the men coughed and mumbled, but the biggest one had the presence of mind to bow quickly back. The rest followed with jerky nods of their heads.

The man with the puckered face stepped up and whispered into the biggest one's ear. He nodded. Then the men turned back towards the woods. When they were out of earshot, the big man said, "He says to tell you to be careful. You're about his daughter's age. But he left her long ago. Says you should be careful. There are worse ones out there than just that pretty politician."

Sakura nodded sagely. Did she ever know. "And you as well. Take care."

She and Sasuke turned and trekked back the way they came, then turned south toward Konoha.

* * *

They had gone so far afield, it added an extra day's travel to their journey, so the next night, instead of returning to Konoha like they'd planned when they left, Sasuke and Sakura set up camp just inside the Fire Country border.

They were in their home territory, so they both felt comfortable relaxing, although neither was tired enough yet to sleep. So they sat up at the small campfire to unwind in peaceful silence.

Sakura was going over facts in her head, trying to make connections, and she assumed Sasuke was too. But he was engrossed in another train of thought.

Sakura leaned forward to feed a small branch into the fire. Sasuke watched her long arm stretch toward the glow of yellow light, then retract. She pulled her knees up in front of her and folded her arms over the tops and tapped her fingers on her kneecaps, deep in thought.

He reclined in the roots of a tree not quite across the fire from her, and his mind wandered as his gaze traveled over her arms and fingers and he recalled what the genin kids had said about her. After seeing her take down that man with her finger, just as she promised, now he wondered whether it was all bluster.

"Sakura—" He said it so suddenly that Sakura started. He stopped, realizing that he did not make idle talk and that his teammates had apparently grown accustomed to his reticence, but he continued anyway out of sheer curiosity.

"I was wondering, that is…I once heard that you could sever a limb then reattach it—"

"Who, me?"

Sasuke shrugged, "Yeah." But just from her answer he suspected he would be disappointed. He amended his question to give her a way out. "You know…you or any medic in general. Can it be done?"

She stared at the fire thinking and stretched her legs out in front of her. Sasuke had decided she couldn't when she surprised him.

"Yeah. Sure. I don't see why not."

Sasuke sat forward a little, surprised at her confidence. "Really?" Since seeing her trounce that guy the day before, Sasuke had been wondering what other little skills she kept tucked away.

Sakura nodded without hesitation. And Sasuke had to admit he was a little impressed at her coolness about it all. Not quite what he expected from her.

He would never admit it to her, but some part of him still saw her as his childhood teammate, still girlish and tender-hearted. His own childhood was consumed with revenge. He'd spent long hours plotting exactly how he was going to kill his brother. But tearing off limbs and reattaching them had never occurred to him. And it was ridiculous to think that idea would come from Sakura of all people.

Sasuke narrowed his eyes. "And is that something _you_ would ever do, as a means of threat or torture?"

Sakura wrinkled her nose and shook her hands in distaste. "Ew, no. Why would you want to? It'd be so…messy."

Without another word, Sasuke turned back to the fire. She was still Sakura, after all. But surprisingly he was a little disappointed. She could dispatch thugs with bravado…. Of course she probably would _not_ think like him when it came to real pain, real torture—

"I'd just pop out an eyeball instead."

Sasuke's mouth fell open. He couldn't believe what he'd just heard. He swiveled his head and stared at her, still unsure if she was joking or not, but Sakura didn't seem to notice. Her fingers were tapping on the ground, already working through another thought.

"With an eyeball out, you get pain for the victim plus the shock effect for his buddies. It just sort of hangs there like a grape on the vine till you plop it back in."

She glanced to the side, caught Sasuke's shocked look, and curled a wisp of hair behind her ear. "What! It doesn't do any permanent damage!"

Sasuke's surprise transformed to curiosity. "Really? The nin wouldn't go blind"

"Not if you put it back in right." Sakura grinned again. "Of course there's other ways to inflict pain that'll get the job done too." She splayed her hand, listing them out. "Dislocated joints are easy and look worse than they actually are, sliced capillaries are great for a quick bleed out. Messy but effective—"

"What— Since when have you— Who…Who _are_ you?"

Sakura laughed, pulled her knees up to her chest and crossed her ankles. "I know it's weird, but I think about these things." Her voice dropped a notch. "I don't ever want to be caught off guard again."

Sasuke nodded soberly. "It's not weird." Her eyes locked on his for a moment, turning exceptionally green in the flamelight, and for the first time, Sasuke felt like she was someone who understood him. Not the way the village saw him, but the complicated person he really was. And she accepted him. It was a connection he'd never been able to make with anyone.

He cleared his throat and both looked away a little to quickly. But he didn't want this first connection to fade away into awkwardness. He pushed himself to keep the conversation going.

"So, could you really have killed that guy with your pinky finger?"

Sakura nodded. "If I needed to, yes. But it would have been a mess for me and horribly painful for him. I'd have to concentrate all my chakra into my pinky, then dig down deep and slice his jugular vein. But if I missed…." She wiggled her fingers at what a mess it would be. "If I missed, it would mean problems for both of us. Especially if I didn't incapacitate him. Then he'd just be mad and bleeding, and I'd probably have to finish the job with a kunai."

Just the mental picture was enough to send Sasuke hand to his throat, rubbing it subconsiously.

"Can a lot of people do that? Medics, I mean?"

Sakura curled her hair back again. "Um…. No," she said slowly. She looked down at her feet and before Sasuke turned away, he thought he glimpsed that saucy smile peeking out again. It was the same one he'd seen just before she took down that thug. This time Sasuke let himself smile with her.

He understood now what that smile meant.

She knew how powerful she was. But she didn't want to brag about it. She could heal or kill or bring down men twice her size with those pale fingers that looked like they'd never seen active duty of any kind.

She was like a finely wrought weapon, an elegant sword on the waist of a regally dressed samurai. She was a killer, hidden in plain sight.

The others in the village guessed at her skill. But they only knew half of it. They had no idea what else she could do. He felt somehow privileged. Warmed by the fire and his discoveries, Sasuke thought he was getting the hang of this conversation thing.

"So you can heal and kill…. But you don't seem to be at the hospital as much anymore." Sakura's smile vanished. Sasuke mentally kicked himself. "What I meant was—"

"No, it's okay," Sakura said softly, rubbing the back of her arms. "I figure there's enough healers already. They can do without me. I'd rather be out here. As a shinobi." Her green eyes were guarded, as if she thought he might argue.

But she was wrong. Sasuke picked up a limb and fed it into the whitest part of the fire. "I'm glad you are," he admitted quietly, never looking at her.

After several long moments, both quiet at the realization that they'd each confessed something that had been weighing on them, Sasuke cleared his throat.

"So, me tell about what else your chakra can do. Which _is_ your favorite finger for killing people?"

Sakura laughed and the easy camaraderie slipped back into their conversation.

Hours later, when Sasuke bedded down beside the dying fire, he realized he'd never spoken to anyone that long, about anything. It was a nice feeling. He settled his gaze on the rose-plated embers, noting drowsily that they were the same color as her hair, and let that pulsing with warmth at the edge of his vision pull him into sleep.

* * *

Spring drifted into summer, and Sakura and Sasuke were assigned more and more missions without Sai. He explained once, as best as he could, that it was required of anbu agent to serve at the pleasure of Danzo and the high council and support where the were most needed, functioning as a back-up to Root and Konoha's shinobi corps— But Sakura stopped him from repeating the boilerplate language they all knew. Sai couldn't tell them, and they didn't ask. So they just enjoyed the times he could accompany them, but accepted that it would be less and less frequent.

When Sasuke and Sakura functioned as a two-man group, Tsunade usually assigned them manageable tasks, mostly within the Fire Country's borders. Sakura was grateful just to be out, and even though the assignments were usually quite dull, it kept Sasuke out from under the council's noses in case they had thoughts of reining him in again.

Sasuke never shared his opinion on it, but if Sakura had to guess, then she'd say he'd accepted it with equanimity.

It had been a strange summer. The threat of warfare loomed for shinobi. But in the absence of any single incendiary event, life returned to normal for most civilians. Trade picked up, crops went to markets, and a pair of shinobi traveling the Fire Country's back roads drew no attention at all.

It was the case one hot July day, when the two stopped on at the fork of a dusty farm road. A farmer walking his goats just nodded as if it they were neighbors. Not ninjas.

Sasuke unrolled the mission scroll again, checking their location against the map included. The map was a few years old, and new roads had sprung up. Taking the wrong spur that morning had cost them several extra hours in back-tracking, and Sasuke didn't want to make the same mistake again.

Sakura flipped up her braid, bending the even pattern and forcing wisps of hair out of the sides, and used it to fan hot air across her sweaty neck. Sasuke didn't look much better. His hair fell in black sweat-tipped spikes across his forehead and pink spots had burned themselves into his cheeks. He was either sunburned or very hot. Sakura pressed her own flushed cheeks, wondering if she looked the same.

Sasuke "tsked" audibly and frowned at the map. Sakura stepped closer to have a look. Her shirt pushed into him and her boot tapped against his shoe as she reached over his arm to tip the map toward her. It was only when they were side by side that she realized that Sasuke was actually a little taller than her. Not by a great deal, but just enough to make reading something together uncomfortable if he refused to lower it. Which she suspected he was doing now.

She tugged the map down and shot him a mockingly stern look. Laughter danced in his eyes before he handed over the map. But he didn't step back. Instead he stayed close, reading over her shoulder.

Sakura puffed out a breath. "We'll never make it by nightfall now, will we?" Sasuke shook his head.

"Well, then…since we're in no rush, let's take this route." She drew her finger down the map, along a route that ran tantalizingly close to a thickly painted blue line. A stream. "It looks, um, more scenic."

She glanced up at Sasuke. If he thought it was silly — which Sakura knew it was — then he didn't say anything. Ninjas didn't take scenic routes. But the sweltering heat was draining her energy. And if they had a little extra time to spare, she'd dearly love a little break at the stream. Just the thought of splashing her face in some cool water was enough to make her change course. And she bet Sasuke felt the same, but he was too stubborn to show it.

Without a word, Sasuke rerolled the map and scroll and jammed them back in his rucksack. He huffed once, looking comically grim. But his eyes pointed toward Sakura's route. Sakura grinned, and they set off.

Half-an-hour later they were rewarded with glittery light breaking through the leaves to one side of the trail. Sakura turned off into the brush, following the heady sounds of moving water without even a backwards glance at Sasuke.

Ducking and pushing her way through the foliage, it opened up suddenly on a grassy bank overlooking a wide, slow-moving stream. In the afternoon light, golden-winged insects flitted over the gentle swells. Smooth river stones painted the clear water with dots of orange, brown, grey and milky white.

Just looking at it made her cooler. She decided that a simple splash wasn't nearly enough. Instead she would drench a cloth in the water and wrap it around the back of her sweaty neck.

Just then the bushes behind her shook and Sasuke pushed through.

Turning back, Sakura watched Sasuke's face open in momentary wonder. A surprised smile lit his face. "Wow," he breathed.

"See," she said and looked out across the water with him. "Amazing, right? Aren't you glad we came this way?"

He didn't answer. And when she looked back at him in question, she was surprised to find his focus sharpened on her instead of the glorious backdrop behind her. She didn't know what to make of it so she curled her hair behind her ear, cleared her throat and declared "I think we should stay awhile. Take a break, you know?" She knew he'd disagree, it was in his nature.

But he surprised her again by uttering, "Sure. Sounds good."

Sakura peered at him for a moment, wondering if the heat had finally gotten to him, but she decided not to question it. She wanted to cool off, and she wasn't going to waste her only opportunity.

She plopped down on the grassy bank and began tugging off her boots. Frown lines pinched Sasuke's forehead.

"I'm sure the water feels great," she said when she stood beside him. Sasuke shifted to a more comfortable stance and let his hand rest on the handle of his sword. Sakura thought he looked like he was on guard duty.

She shrugged, "Suit yourself," and eased down into the cool water. It swirled up to her calves, and after the first bite of cold it turned incredibly refreshing. She wiggled her toes over the smooth stones and took a few more steps. The glittering insects shot away as she sloshed forward.

When she reached a sandy bar in the center of the stream, she turned back intending to wave at him. But Sasuke surprised her again: He was barefoot at the water's edge and just about to step in. He grimaced as his foot hit the bracingly cold water, but he pushed on and was soon heading her way.

Sakura grinned broadly when he finally looked up, and he let a crooked, conspiratorial smile peek out.

Sakura folded an arm across her stomach and waited, thinking again about how different Sasuke was now. She decided she'd never really known him as a child. Yet the bond they had now was what Kakashi had spoken of. Fiercely loyal teammates. But there was so much more to him that people didn't see. He kept it hidden behind his prowess. There was pain and anger…and fear. It had almost consumed him.

She shuddered to think what might have happened if he hadn't been forced to stay in the village, what other path his life might have taken.

Sasuke wobbled for a moment on a rock, flailing through the air in the most ungraceful movement she'd ever seen from him, but he righted himself quickly and regained his balance. Sakura pressed her fingers to her lips in a failed attempt to suppress a laugh.

"I heard that," he said, never looking up. His balance faltered again.

"You're almost there," Sakura said, laughter in her voice.

Both of them had changed, she decided. He felt comfortable enough around her to let another side show, and she had learned what a true teammate bond was. Her eyes fell to the water lapping in front of her toes. That had been a hard lesson, and one that was still remarkably painful, even almost a full year after discovering the truth about Katsuro.

Sakura waded back into the stream until the water ringed her ankles.

Frowning resolutely, Sakura wiped the fringe of hair from her eyes, pushed the memories of _him_ from her mind and focused on what was in front of her. _This_ was real. Sasuke, her village, her responsibilities. Not some childish fantasy about a lost boy that only she could save—

Sasuke waded up beside her, interrupting her thoughts. She looked up, smiling brightly to mask her momentary distraction.

"This is nice," he said. His voice was free from it's usual sarcasm. Sakura shielded her eyes from the glare to see that his expression was open. It was a genuine compliment.

The blindingly-bright sunlight must have been making everything clearer. For the first time, Sakura noticed the brown undertones streaking through his ink-black hair. And as he scanned their surroundings approvingly, Sakura discovered his eyes weren't the flat black she'd always assumed them to be, but instead were edged with a lighter brown.

She realized just then how very different he looked from Itachi — who's stark, almost sickly contrast of pale skin and suffocatingly black hair still hung her memory — and she wondered who Sasuke took after more, his mother or his father. But she would never know. Whatever normal life Sasuke would have had with them was a distant memory. Stolen by his brother, the ghost who now haunted them both.

Sasuke swiveled his gaze back to her, studying her face intently in the sunlight, but Sakura was so flooded with guilt at finally coming to understand the one person she held in contempt for so long, that she couldn't meet his eyes.

_All alone, he had to be so strong. Itachi robbed him of so much. Without his parents, he would have missed out on everything. Even the smallest things. Like just…skipping stones_

Gulping back sudden emotion, Sakura saw the small round stones glimmering up from beneath the water all around them. _Well, there was one thing she could take back from Itachi._

She hastily scooped up a handful of rocks. "Hold out your hand," she commanded.

Sasuke frowned at her but obeyed.

"I'm going to teach you how to skip rocks," she declared in a rush. Sasuke scoffed and pulled his hand back but Sakura held it firm. His hand in hers, she leaned so close that her skirt flapped against his pant leg and their shadows melted into one. She curled his fingers around the rock while he looked down into her messy braid.

"You get a flat rock and—"

"Sakura I don't need—"

"….You hold it between your thumb and forefinger—"

"Sakura stop it, I already—"

"….And you flick it at the water." Sasuke's hand in hers, she whipped it as best as she could. But the stone fell with a thud only a few feet from them.

"Well, that didn't quite work but—" She was quickly moving to grab another stone, but Sasuke caught her hand.

"Sakura," he said, suspicion in his voice, "what's this about?"

Sakura laughed nervously and tried to remove her hand, but Sasuke held it firm. His look turned serious. She tugged again, but it was no use. "What are you doing," he demanded.

Sakura sighed, knowing there was no way out but to confess her thoughts. And it would probably make him mad and ruin their nice break. She let her hand go limp in his grasp.

"I was just thinking that you probably never had anyone around to teach you the little things. Like skipping rocks. You know everything there is to know about being a shinobi. But maybe not the little stuff you get from, from…family." He dropped her hand and looked away which made Sakura feel even worse, but she pressed on.

"I know you'll be mad. But I only wanted you to know that I don't see you as some all powerful shinobi anymore." Sasuke shook his head and folded his arms over his chest. "No wait, that's came out wrong! You are, probably one of the most powerful shinobi I've ever met! But I used to think that was you were when I was younger. Just a shinobi. Like a machine or something. But now I see you differently. That's all. You're a teammate…and a friend."

Sakura could tell from the stiff line of his shoulders that none of her words had made a difference. She wished she'd just kept her mouth shut.

"I just wanted to teach you to skip rocks," she muttered, "in case, you know, you never learned how."

Sasuke didn't move, and Sakura knew she'd lost all the ground she'd gained with him. Any minute now he'd probably storm back to the bank and give her the silent treatment for the rest of the trip. It was like an unspoken rule: They didn't talk about personal stuff. And the subject of his family was never broached by anyone, _ever_. But she had thought that just once, she might—

Without a sound, Sasuke extended his arm from his side and slowly opened his palm. Sakura bit the corner of her lip, tamping down a bright grin._Yes!_

Sakura ducked to pick up a rock, moving quickly in case he changed his mind. She found a perfect one — flat, smooth and milky white.

She placed it in the palm of his hand, curling his fingers around it, and cupped his elbow with her other hand, guiding it in the right direction. "Now, pinch the rock in your fingers and—" But instead of doing what she asked, Sasuke closed his hand around hers and the stone, catching her fingers and holding them fast.

"Sakura—" His voice had a gravelly rasp she'd never heard before. He tugged her into him, smirking down into her upturned face and ignoring her confused look. "I know how to skip rocks."

Sasuke's eyes were dark with an intent that Sakura didn't quite grasp when he pulled her solidly against him and captured her mouth in a single, long kiss.

Stunned, Sakura blinked at his closed eyes and felt his mouth warm on hers, and it took her a a second to decide that yes, this might be, well, okay.

She yielded, softening to him and letting him ease her closer so his fingers could gently graze up her bare arm. Only then did he break their first kiss into several short fluttering ones.

It was a deliberate slowness that set Sakura on fire. Her body was alive to every sensation — from the water rippling around her feet to the sun warming her head to his lips moving in soft, slow kisses over hers. Not intrusive, but slowly exploring, teasing the corner of her mouth, tasting the soft skin of her cheek.

It wasn't the same of course…. That desperate, tear-filled kiss of farewell that had almost made her believe in _him._… That kiss that still seared her mouth in the deepest part of her dreams—

She pulled back suddenly, pressed her lips together and looked down, wishing the memory wasn't still so strong. She knew she shouldn't compare something that was nothing more than a lie with _this_…. _This_ kiss that was real, colored by emotions that were real, and from a person who had changed so much he could actually care again, for someone else, for _her_….

Sasuke's hand stilled on her arm. He pulled back, concern etched on his face. "Is it… Is this okay?"

Sakura opened her eyes and looked at the person in front of her, the real person, not the false Sasuke from years before.

There was concern there, but it was mixed with hope. Sakura felt her mouth curve up in a smile. And when he smiled back, it was like the sun breaking through clouds. That he could transform and let go of his past to let a new relationship bloom was amazing. Maybe it was time to let go of her past, too.

She rolled her lips together, savoring the newness of it all. His gaze dropped to her lips, and when he looked back up, there she recognized the heat in his black eyes.

"It's um, fine." she said, suddenly shy. "I mean, it's— It's good."

Sasuke smiled again, a real smile that curled up the corners of his mouth and made her stomach do a funny little flip.

His breathy laugh skittered across her lips. "Good."

Sasuke dipped his head to hers and gently cupped her jaw. He looked into her eyes for one long moment, long enough for Sakura to feel her face begin to pink. He smoothed his thumb over the soft swell of her cheek and smiled that melting smile again, then slid his hand to the back of her neck to thread his fingers through the loose hair beneath her braid. Anchoring his hand there, Sasuke pulled her in for another kiss.

And this time, Sakura wasn't so shocked she couldn't respond. She tipped her head to the side, letting him deepen it. And when his other hand found the small of her back, Sakura leaned into him, wound her arms around his sun-warmed shoulders and accepted that things changed. And sometimes it wasn't so bad.

The sun glinted off the rolling waters and eventually the skittering golden-winged insects returned to their quiet dance, having decided that the pair of intruders who stood unmoving in the stream were no threat to them.

* * *

Red and yellow papers flapped in the light autumn breeze, curling around the smooth stones weighing them down. Soft tipped brushes jangled together in glass jars. Another strong gust whipped up, sending motley-painted little canvases shuddering. A sign propped at the base of the table proclaiming "Art and Supplies For Sale" pitched forward with a bang. A moment later a squat little shopkeeper ran out to right it.

Sai, seeing the sign, quickly abandoned his two teammates on the hillside road and hurried up to inspect the wares. The shopkeeper, seeing a future customer, eagerly invited him inside.

And Sasuke, seeing this as a perfect opportunity to pounce, stopped abruptly. Sakura, just a few steps behind him, nearly collided with his back.

Before she realized what was going on ahead, and that they were alone, Sasuke slipped an arm around her waist, drawing her close.

Surprised, Sakura pushed back on the offending arm and leaned away, ready to admonish him. But Sasuke wasn't letting go.

"Don't worry," he said teasingly, burying his head in her long, loose hair to whisper in her ear, "Sai's gone inside. It's just us."

Then, as deftly as unsheathing his own katana, his hand found the hem of her shirt, tugged it free and curled his fingers underneath. Cool air grazed warm skin. She arched into him, and he laughed into her hair. At the small of her back, Sasuke fanned out his his hand, sweeping his lightly tanned fingers over her petal-pale skin, and pulled her even closer. Sakura tightened her grip on his sleeve and pushed back.

Heads still together, Sasuke released his hold. She leaned away, and he dragged his hand the rest of the way around her hip, letting his fingertips linger under the edge of her shirt. When he lifted his head away from hers his face was wreathed in confidence. He took a half-step back to peer into her face, waiting to enjoy the spoils of his little ambush.

Fingers still tangled in his sleeve, other hand pushing against his chest, Sakura tipped her head back and laughed, causing the hair that hung down past her shoulder blades to swing forward and curl around their linked arms.

"Stop it, he'll see us!" He smiled into her face, intent clear when he looked down at her mouth, and she smiled too, inviting him—

The shopkeeper's voice carried from the doorway. They were coming back.

Sasuke stepped back quickly, putting a respectable distance between them, but not before sliding his hand back down her arm and letting long fingers curl around hers for just a moment in the hidden space beyond Sai's line of vision. Then they separated to join their unsuspecting teammate.

Sai had just stepped out of the shop, eyes shining and cheeks touched with pink. A cluster of brushes stuck out from one hand, and he clutched a creamy painting scroll beneath his other elbow.

Sakura smiled warmly at Sai, pleased to see him so happy, and strode quickly to his side to admire his selection. They both leaned over the table as he explained what the different brushes in the sale jars might be used for.

Stopped a few steps behind, Sasuke shifted his stance and folded his arms. If his sightline was any indication, he was watching Sakura with more than just a little friendly admiration.

Catching Sasuke's appreciative gaze, she raised her head to shot him a look of mock scolding when something beyond his shoulder caught her eye. She stood. Eyes never leaving the spot, she took a step toward Sasuke, when it happened again.

A glint of light from a rooftop behind them flashed across her face, blinding her momentarily. But when she looked back there was nothing nothing there. Sakura shielded her eyes from the sun and tipped her head for a better look.

Sasuke turned as well, scanning the buildings for anything out of place, when Sakura identified the cause of the anomaly.

A scrap of metal wrapped around a crumbling old chimney jerked in the breeze, reflecting back sunlight from a bent corner. It jumped again, slashing light across them.

Sasuke frowned, focusing on the rooftop spot for a long moment, until Sakura's hand touched his arm. "It was nothing. Come on, Sai's finished."

Satisfied, he nodded and let himself be led on. The three moved down the cobbled road, Sai's tightly wrapped parcel of art supplies filling out his rucksack.

Sakura glanced back one last time over her shoulder, verifying that there was indeed nothing there. The rooftop was empty and the metal flashing was still. It was nothing. She turned her back and left the forgettable town behind her.

###

"Geez they almost saw us, boss." But only silence answered. "You alright? _Boss…?_"

Two cloaked figures flickered back into existence in the thick shadow of the chimney.

"They never saw us," the second one quietly. But when he spoke again his voice was tight with restraint. "Let's go. We're leaving."

"But I thought we had to—"

"I said _let's go_," he repeated sharply. With one last look at the now empty road, he reached inside his collar and gave something there a hard jerk.

Then the two figures retreated over the edge of the roof and disappeared into the shadows.

* * *

**Author's Notes:**

Don't kill me! ;)

There's not too much I can say here without giving things away, so all I'll say is just wait for the next chapter and Katsuro's pov. The coming chapters are going to be…whew! Told you things were going to get bumpy! :) If I didn't get a chance to personally respond to last chapter's reviews, then thanks, thanks, thanks again. I read every single one and they absolutely keep me going. Check the website for more notes, _spoilers_ and early updates, and as always please read and review! ;)

**Chapter Notes**

• Ages - I'm writing them as being about 18 right now. A little older than they are in the manga (although in the manga they've been stuck at 16 for years now so it feels like they ought to be a little older than they really are). I wrote it originally to correspond to the ages and milestones in the manga. But it went farther. However Gaara's age/milestones do not follow the manga timeline (although he will be kage by the time Naruto returns). I'll work in the ages next chapter (forgot for this one! Oops!).

• The poem — _We cannot tell now, But let us try a small test: If we both survive, Will it be I who forget Or you who fail to visit? — _The Heian era, from 794-1185, was a golden age of courtly arts in Japan like music, art, calligraphy and poetry. This poem was likely written by a courtesan, and would have been left for her love. I thought the words were fitting for Katsuro and Sakura from this point forward, because Katsuro failed to visit and Sakura _appears_ to have forgotten.

• About Sakura losing desire to practice healing/medicine - I thought it would be interesting to put Sakura more squarely on Tsunade's path. Not just as her apprentice, but as someone who has to deal with the loss of focus and drive to work like Tsunade had to grapple with before she returned to the village.

• _When one of their team went down, she could heal them and they'd be back up again. Not so for other teams. Sakura added the asset of endurance._ — So, the chapter title is Stolen Assets. It refers to many things here — precious items that are taken — Katsuro most importantly, and the stolen items Team 7 is chasing, but also Sakura. Sasuke even refers to her as an asset early on. In the end, we can only imagine that Katsuro feels something has been stolen from him as well.

• _Who in their village was that powerful, to be considered an asset…a weapon worth stealing? Sakura had no answers. She quietly closed the door behind her._ — Of course, Naruto. But like puzzle pieces, Sakura only holds one piece of the bigger picture. So she doesn't think to share her info.

• "_That I haven't changed a bit, and there must be something else about me, otherwise why would someone like you waste time on someone like me—" Katsuro stopped suddenly as another reason just occurred to him. He shuddered. Itachi ignored him._ — This is a little play on all those times Naruto freaks out over Sai's little yaoi-ish jokes, etc. So it's just a little bit of manga-Naruto seeping through.

• _Sasuke nodded soberly. "It's not weird." Her eyes locked on his for a moment, turning exceptionally green in the flamelight, and for the first time, Sasuke felt like she was someone who understood him. Not the way the village saw him, but the complicated person he really was. And she accepted him. It was a connection he'd never been able to make with anyone._ — Couple of things here. Sakura's eyes and their specific color. Katsuro remembered them, and Sasuke really sees them for the first time. And in acknowledging her, he is also acknowledging that he's made a connection. So he is less like manga-Sasuke here and more like manga-Naruto.

• _She was like a finely wrought weapon, an elegant sword on the waist of a regally dressed samurai. She was a killer, hidden in plain sight_. — So Sasuke recognizes her in terms of skill, power and prowess. He likes that she's a hidden killer, because he really couldn't relate to her life as a medic. His view of her is very different from Katsuro. They both like her, but for different reasons.

• _Warmed by the fire and his discoveries, Sasuke thought he was getting the hang of this conversation thing._ — A little bit of a parallel from Sakura and Katsuro's days together. They are sitting by the fire, being warmed by their conversation and companionship. But the content of their conversation is very different. Katsuro didn't want to hear about anything but Sakura and her village life. But Sasuke is happy to sit up half the night talking about ways to kill someone. Lol. They're different!

• _All alone, he had to be so strong. Itachi robbed him of so much. Without his parents, he would have missed out on everything. Even the smallest things. Like just…skipping stones. — _Sakura is talking about Sasuke, but there is an underlying parallel to Naruto too. Itachi has robbed Naruto of the life he would have had in Konoha.


End file.
